Life Lessons
by silverivy13
Summary: Alfred F Jones has big dreams. He's going somewhere. Arthur Kirkland is an ex-cop with a troubled past. When the two meet, their fates become intertwined with one another's. Can they handle the trouble that's sure to follow? -UsUk, Spamano, Gerita; rated M for future chapters-
1. To Leave a Good First Impression

**A/N: So I've been thinking about doing something like this for a while now. Write an actual serious fanfiction, rather than just the oneshots and collabs and parodies that I typically do. After reading a bunch of serious dramatic ones, I got it into my head that I wanted there to be the mafia. So they're gonna show up in here. It's UsUk obviously, one of my favorite pairings. There are other pairings as well, and I tried to make the characters I've introduced so far likeable. I make no promises that you'll like what I do to the characters in future chapters, which is partly why it's rated M.**

**I really enjoyed writing this first chapter and I really want you all to like it as well. There's thousands of Hetalia fanfics out there, but only a few are actually truly serious and dramatic, as if they're in their own soap opera or something. I'm gonna try to write something that not only Hetalia fans can enjoy but anyone who reads it can. I want you to think of these characters as separate from Hetalia, because this might have the same names and appearances and stereotypes, but they're different people really. And like I said, you might not appreciate how I portray some characters in future chapters.**

**I've been planning this for a pretty long time actually, but I only got cohesive ideas a few days ago. Arthur has one giant past, Antonio isn't as carefee as he seems, Lovino has a huge secret, Ludwig's not the nicest, Feliciano might depress you, Francis is... well, he's Francis, and Alfred is caught up in the middle of it. Shit is going to go down, my friends.**

**Please read and enjoy! And remember, reviews are love and love is happiness!**

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To Make A Good First Impression

Alfred F Jones had always had one goal. Just a simple little wish, that one day, he'd go to see the stars, visit planets, chart the universe and explore the workings of the vast expanse known as space. He wanted to become an astronaut. He idolized those men that got to go to space, they became his heroes. When he was 5, it was called 'normal'. When he was 12, it was called 'cute'. When he was 18, it was called 'foolish'. And now, at 22, it was called 'nearly impossible'. But Alfred never stopped dreaming. That was what people liked about him, that astounding confidence, the belief that no matter what, he _would _achieve greatness. That was also what they hated. So Alfred didn't have many friends, not many people could stand with him. They'd often feel overwhelmed by his sheer personage, and they could only shrink into his shadow. The few that could stand as tall as he were intimidated, fearing to lose their positions, so they shied away. But Alfred never let this get him down.

He was what people called a prodigy in his schools. Easily aceing all his courses, he was well-liked by his fellow students, and he often had a girlfriend. However he could never get truly attached to them, and their relationship would end with as much as a 'goodbye, it was fun'. He was very involved in athletics, making it as far as state as the pitcher for the school's baseball team. He also participated in student council, and he had been elected senior class president, an amazing honor. And yet there was that presence, that powerful, incredible, confidence. And all through school, he didn't have many friends. There was Matthew, his brother. The two were twins, and Matthew was a kind, sweet, quiet boy, so quiet, in comparison with his brother, who had no problems voicing his opinions. Matthew faded in Alfred's shadow. He was smart. Not as much as Alfred. He was good at sports. Not as good as Alfred. He was well-liked. Not as popular as Alfred. He was jealous of his older twin, jealous of his personality. He loved him like only a brother could, but he was jealous. But Matthew had friends. And because of that, he would never understand the envy Alfred felt when he went off with them to movies, to town, to hang out. Alfred didn't have that.

And then came graduation. His valedictorian speech had been amazing.

"Dear fellow students," he had began. "It is my honor to stand here before you all today, chosen out of the graduating class of 739 students, 738 of which I know so well. But that's only 738. There is one person I don't know, and that is myself. I am a mystery. I have yet to determine my fate, my future. All of us are starting out on the very beginning of the road. These past 18 years were training, training for this very moment. We have an idea of who we will become, but that's not who we are. The road ahead will be rough. It will have ups and downs, highs and lows, and along the way, people will come and go. But there is one person who will be there forever, and that is yourself. Our future is bright, my friends! Continue looking forward. That's all you can do. Find yourself. Find your future. Good luck and congratulations!" He ended to thunderous applause.

As he shook the hands of his fellow alumni and former teachers, each and every one of them so proud to have known this man, this powerful man, he could only think of one thing: leaving. He had been accepted to all the college's he had applied to but there was only one he cared about. The Galileo Academy of Sciences, in Stella, Italy, was one of the most prestigious, elite colleges in the country, at least in Alfred's field. It catered to a number of various degrees, from social sciences to psychology. He entered the school with his major already in mind: Astronomy. He had always loved the stars, and in the small town in Pennsylvania where he had previously lived, you could see them very clearly at night, bright shining dots lighting up the vast expanse of darkness in an array of glowing designs. His father used to show him and Matthew constellations when they were young. Matthew wasn't very interested, and he preferred staying at home when Alfred and their father would take a trip to the hill with the telescope. But Alfred loved every second. So when he discovered he had been accepted, and that he would be able to pursue his lifelong dream, he was ecstatic.

He had arrived in Italy about a month before school began, and had found the only difficult thing about adjusting to the new environment was the language. He had taken 7 years of Spanish prior to moving to Stella, and had enrolled in a course in basic Italian before he had to leave. Fortunately, most citizens spoke either English or Spanish, and he knew enough Italian to get by. The lectures were difficult, but he had already made a good friend in his classes.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was the type of person you wanted to know. He was nice, so incredibly nice, almost to a fault. His dark hair and bright green eyes were a stunning combo, tall and tan, he had no shortage of ladies fawning over him. Too bad he didn't swing that way. Alfred would alway joke about how he could have a harem if he wanted one. Antonio would say that if he could have a harem, Alfred could have an army. Sadly for all the many women falling for him, he had a boyfriend, a very feisty Italian boy. Antonio always said he was 'so cute'. Alfred hadn't yet met the guy, but from what he had heard, 'so cute' was more like 'so violent'. A native Spaniard, Antonio had moved to Italy about 7 years prior to meeting Alfred. He was 23, a year older than the American, and he spoke fluent Italian and English in addition to his native language, so he translated the majority of the lessons for Alfred. And because of this, Alfred was doing extremely well in class. He had even been chosen to accompany his astronomy professor to a banquet, and though he had a difficult time understanding exactly what was going on, he charmed the other scholars with his intelligence, his curious mind, and his wide million-watt smile. Multiple times he had offered to pay the Spaniard for his services, but each time Antonio would just laugh it off, saying he didn't need to do that. After all, they were friends, right? Alfred hadn't known exactly how to respond to that.

"Tony," he had asked one day. "Why are you with me?" Antonio had given him a funny look.

"That's a bit of an odd question, amigo. Care to elaborate?"

"Well, it's just that I've never had many friends, and none quite like you."

"That's surprising! I'd think you're the kind of guy who's friends with everyone."

"I am, and that's just it. I was friends with everyone, and yet I wasn't. I think they were all too intimidated. I think… I think my confidence might've scared off any potential companions. I had a brother, but… Well, it wasn't the same."

"You do have a large personality! But that's what I like about you. You aren't afraid to share your opinions. You don't worry about what others think of you. You simply don't care, about people who want you to fail, about superficial things, about the past, about hardships, about bumps in the road, all you do is constantly stride forward, full of pride and confidence and the belief that you'll achieve something great. You sort of remind me of Lovi."

"Ah, the infamous boyfriend?"

"He's not that bad! And yes. I like that about you, though. I like to stand at your side. I like being your friend. Okay, Al?"

"Yeah. Thanks dude."

Alfred had dropped the topic after that. It made him smile to think that some people did want to be with him. He was incredibly content with his present life. With Antonio's help, he continued to do well in school, gradually he learned more and more Italian, he made a few other friends in his other classes, he liked playing baseball with them in his free time. He was glad to have finally found a place where he could be himself, where people weren't afraid of wilting in the shadow of his large blossoming presence. It was his fourth year when his teacher asked him to pick up a book from a store, and he had happily agreed, eager to be of help. If he had known how much his life would drastically change after that, I wonder if he would have still gone.

...

"Hmmmm." Alfred glances at the note in his hand and then back at the old building he was now standing in front of. It was tall, about 2 floors or so, and old, a vintage feel echoed from the old dark brown brick walls. Grayish yellow plaster filled between the bricks and gradually took the place of two pillars next to the door, holding up a second-floor balcony. It ended with a curved roof held up by four short pillars on each side, large gargoyles frozen in terrifying screams stood between them. The windows were tall and thin, dark brass fixings attaching them to the walls. The front door was a massive block of oak, beautiful rich and warm. He took one final look at the postcard before deciding this was the place he was supposed to go. He walked up the two steps, grasped the door handle, and pushed open into a sea of books. On shelves, tables, dressers, cabinets, anything really, they were stacked, shoved, shelved all over the store, almost hiding the dark green wallpaper on the walls, which went to about 3 feet above the ground, before running into the same oaken wood as the front door. As Alfred was taking this in, he failed to hear the voice coming from the back of the store, and he started when a man appeared from behind a shelf.

"Can I help you?" He repeated. The man was short, shorter than Alfred, with messy blond hair. It was lighter than his own, a soft gold the color of sunshine. His eyes were a vivid green, the kind you don't really see nowadays, the bright kind, rather than the dull grayish green that was much more common in the states. Pale skin just a few shades darker than white was met in stark contrast with the man's dark green sweater vest, which he wore over a crisp white dress shirt. Black slacks and dark shoes completed the outfit, and he looked very professional, very scholarly, very smart. He was a very handsome man, but what stood out the most to Alfred was

"EYEBROWS!" He blurted out, pointing straight at the man's forehead. They were big and black and bushy. "THATS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!" And with that, he started laughing. Hard. The harder and longer he laughed, the more annoyed the man grew. His face was turning a very vivid shade of red, in embarrassment and anger. The man stormed over to Alfred, and before he can do anything, has whacked him over the head with a very heavy very blunt object. "OOOOWWWWWW!" Alfred wails, clutching his injured scalp, feeling the inevitable knot beginning to form. "What was that for!" He cries, turning to see the man holding a copy of a large hardback book with a graying cover. "_Watership Down._" He squinted to see the faded words on the cover. The man looks at the book. He hesitates a moment, before responding.

"Yes. It's one of my favorite novels. And don't make fun of my eyebrows!"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Well then you miserably failed. Luckily you aren't the first to say that." The man sighs and leans back against the bookshelf behind him. "Now can I help you find something?"

"Oh yeah, I'm here to pick up a book for Professor Rome?"

"Ah yes! _On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres _by Copernicus, am I right?"

"That's the one!"

"Alright. Follow me then." He starts to wind through the mazes of shelves.

"This place is a mess! Don't you ever clean it?" He says, lagging behind. When he looks up, he notices the man has disappeared. "Hey, wait, ...you." He trails off, not knowing the name of the store owner. The man reappears from behind a shelf.

"Arthur."

"Huh?"

"My name. It's Arthur. Not 'you'. Arthur Kirkland."

"Oh. Well nice to meet you Arthur! I'm Alfred. Alfred F Jones."

"Oh. A statesman."

"Yup! And proud of it, my friend!"

"I'm not your friend. We just met."

"Does that really matter?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well then. You should really clean up around here." He says, changing the subject. "Stuff's practically falling off of the shelves, which look like they'll fall down any minute."

"Oh please! These are perfectly stable!" To prove his point, Arthur moves to the nearest hardwood bookshelf and shoves it. Hard.

"Hey don't do that!"

"As I said, they are perfectly-" he breaks off as there's a loud rumbling noise. Apparently, shoving the bookcase was not a good idea. And back and forth it goes, books falling and scattering on the floor, quite a few hitting Arthur on the way down. Alfred is momentarily stunned, but he's shaken out of his stupor when the bookcase finally decides to fall one way- and that way is directly onto Arthur. Arthur, still covering his head from the falling books is paying no attention to it, so now, well, Alfred doesn't have much choice.

"Arthur!" He yells, darting towards him, as the Brit finally looks up and notices his peril- just as Alfred shoves into him, pulling him off his feet, but away from the bookshelf. There's a loud _THUD _almost instantly followed by a _CRASH_ and a cloud of dust rises from the floor, causing the two men to cough. As the dust clears, Alfred breathes a sigh of relief.

"Get off me, you git!" Arthur indignantly snaps, glaring at the American who is now just mere inches from his face, his legs straddling the Brit. Alfred turns back to look at Arthur and throws him a penetrating glare as he stands, hands placed on his hips, anger reflected in his soft blue eyes.

"Don't yell at me!" He responds. "I just saved you from a nasty concussion, the least you could do is thank me!"

"I only say it when I'm actually thankful!" Arthur says.

"Oh? Well you should be!"

"I didn't ask for any help!"

"I'm not just gonna let you get crushed!"

"It's not that heavy!"

"Looks pretty heavy to me!" Arthur doesn't have a response to that, and, having run out of steam, just sighs and looks away, glaring into the space to the right of Alfred. Realizing that yelling at the Britishman won't get him anywhere, Alfred groans in frustration, before bending back down and holding out his hand. Arthur just huffs and looks further away. "C'mon, don't be like that." He turns his head away again. "Look, you'll break your neck if you keep doing that. Look, I'll even apologize. So sorry for saving your life." Arthur growls at that statement, but accepts the hand, rising to his feet as well. He walks away. "Hey, where are you going!" Alfred cries, but doesn't follow him, instead opting to just shove his hands in his pockets and pout. However, Arthur reappears a few seconds later, holding a small book bound in a rich crimson color. He walks over and holds it out to Alfred. "What's this?" Arthur smirks.

"Did you forget what you came here for already? My, my, that's Americans for you."

"Hey! I resent that!" He takes the book. It's old, the pages are yellowed, but it's still in good condition. It was obviously well taken care of. _Now that I think about it, they all are._ Alfred observes the store. At first glance it looks crowded and messy. However, each book is stacked just so, nothing is crammed onto the shelves, bookends hold up the upright books, each one of those spine down, so the pages won't catch dust from the shelf. Each of the books were probably loved by their owner, at least until he sold them or lent them to another. _It's a shame, _he thinks as he looks at the crashed bookshelf and the young man bending over them, painstakingly dusting each book off, carefully picking through it, checking for any rips or folds. He sighs as he realizes some of them will have to be thrown away, and Arthur begins to gather those very ones. Alfred can't help but give a small grin at the man, and he leans down next to him, picking up a book as well. If Arthur noticed, he gave no sign. Instead the two quietly work next to each other, gathering and inspecting each and every one that had fallen. Luckily, very few had to be discarded, those being the ones whose spines were snapped or pages torn in half. Finally, Arthur asks him.

"What are you doing?" Alfred gives him a funny look.

"What does it look like? Helping you."

"I didn't ask for help."

"Yeah I noticed you don't really do that."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you helping me, me who you have just met, who has been nothing but rude to you, who can't even say thank you properly, why are you helping me?"

"Well... That's just the kind of person I am." He gives Arthur a quick grin.

"Then you can help by sorting these." He lands a huge stack of novels right in front of him. "Alphabetical order."

"It's a ton! You'd better pay me!"

"I thought you said this was the kind of person you are. How sad. Guess you're not a man of your word."

"Why, you... You planned this!" Alfred protests, but he takes the books anyway. "I thought British people were supposed to be gentlemen."

"We are. Just not to men."

"And why is that?"

"We'd rather get in girl's pants."

"Dude. Tmi."

"Tmi?"

"It means 'too much information'."

"Then just say that! Honestly, you Americans and your ridiculous acronyms."

"Well excuuuuuse me."

"You're excused."

"I was being sarcastic."

"I know."

"Ass."

"Wanker."

"Wanker?" Arthur snickers.

"Shall I tell you what it means?"

"Judging from the look on your face, I'm not sure I wanna know. So no thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"So you run a bookstore?"

"No, I work at a stripper bar as an escort."

"Whoa man, hardcore!"

"I was joking."

"Oh."

"Yes, I own this store."

"Own all of this? Wow."

"It was my dad's before mine. It was closed for a few years, while I was... Exploring different occupations."

"So you really were a stripper."

"What? No! And I don't need to tell you!"

"Aw, c'mon, please Artie?"

"It's Arthur, and I said no."

"Fine. Where do you live?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'm a stalker and I want to secretly rape and kill you in your sleep." Arthur scoffs.

"As if you could ever do something as heinous as that. Above the shop, on the second floor."

"Ah, cool."

"What about you?"

"I'm in college here."

"Oh? What university?"

"Galileo."

"Really? I'm impressed! That's a difficult school. The people there are very kind though. So Rome's back at Galileo now?"

"Yeah. Was he somewhere before?"

"There was an... Incident. It caused him to stop teaching for a few years, but I'm glad he's back."

"Incident?"

"It's not good to pry, Alfred."

"Sorry. I'm done." He adds, standing up from the stack of books he just ordered.

"Perfect. So am I." Arthur stands as well and turns to the bookcase. He sighs. "Now I have to stand this up."

"You mean 'we'. I'll help you. I may not look it, but I'm pretty strong!"

"Oh trust me, you look it, alright."

"Really? Thanks, man!" Alfred smacks Arthur on the back, almost knocking him back down. He stumbles, catching himself at the last minute. "Whoops. Sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength." Arthur rubs his back sorely, but just shrugs it off.

"It's fine. You get left, I'll get right." Alfred nods. They move to their respective sides. "On three, ready?" They lean down and grip the shelf. "One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" They say together, and each pull. It's a struggle. The shelf is solid wood, and quite heavy. It's not exactly the smoothest either, and as they both lift it up, Alfred curses under his breath.

"Shit!" Arthur glances at him.

"You okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, fine." Arthur gives him a suspicious look but goes back to pushing. Their muscles are bulging, faces strained, but they manage to prop it upright again. Panting, Arthur kneels, hands on his knees.

"I'm too old for this." He mutters. Alfred hears him.

"How old?"

"Don't you know it's not polite to ask someone their age?"

"That's girls." Arthur sighs.

"27."

"That's not that old!"

"Older than you, Mr. College student.

"Just 5 years."

"That's quite a bit. Now then, let me see it."

"See what?" Alfred asks innocently.

"Your hand, you idiot. I heard you curse; you cut yourself, didn't you?"

"No!"

"Alfred, let me see." Huffing, Alfred holds out his left hand, pouting like a child that had to give their parents the candy they had snuck. "Well, you didn't cut it." Arthur says, inspecting it. In the middle of Alfred's palm is a long jagged splinter digging into the soft white flesh. Blood is forming around the tip of the entrance. "Follow me. I have some medical supplies upstairs"

"Inviting me to your room, are we? Someone moves quickly." Arthur smacks his head.

"It's not like that!" He snaps. "It's my fault, so I'll help you clean it off. Now come on." Alfred smirks as he follows Arthur to the back and up the stairs. They're tall and steep, closed into one small corner. Arthur opens the door to the second floor and light floods the thin stairwell. He enters into a simple room with a long lush couch situated in front of a large tv. A coffee table with a half-empty cup of cold tea sits out on it. Pictures line the walls of the living room, and as Arthur disappears into the kitchen to retrieve the antiseptic and tweezers, Alfred wanders over to them. In the first, Arthur is very small and is holding up a sheet of paper that says '_Hawthorne Elememtary Spelling Bee Winner Arthur Kirkland_'. Alfred smiles at that one. In the next, Arthur is a little older now, and he's standing solemnly next to a gravestone. Wincing, he moves to the third. Arthur is frozen in place with a wide grin on his face, his arm slung around another man's shoulder. The other man has blond hair as well, it's shoulder-length and light, a fair bit of stubble on his chin. They are both holding diplomas and wearing fancy uniforms.

"Aren't those..." Alfred starts as Arthur walks back into the room. He notices what Alfred is looking at and stiffens, before grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the photos. "Hey!" He protests.

"It's not polite to pry. Now then, let me take this out." He pulls up Alfred's left hand and places the antiseptic down, picking up the tweezers. Alfred eyes widen in horror.

"No!" He wails. "I don't like pain!"

"No one does! Now shut up!" Alfred continues to a whimper and let's out a shriek of pain as Arthur takes hold of the splinter and pulls. The long jagged spike easily slides out, and a swirl of crimson takes it's place. "See? It wasn't that bad." As Alfred sighs in relief, he trickles antiseptic onto the wound. He howls.

"Hey that hurts!"

"Oh hush! It's killing the bacteria so you won't get an infection! It's good in the long run!"

"I don't like this!"

"Most people don't! At least you're not a masochist!" Arthur snaps as he dabs at the cut before wrapping in clean white gauze. "It's in an awkward place," he explains. "So a bandaid wouldn't stay well. When you take a shower, be careful and gentle and change the gauze afterward."

"You certainly know what you're doing."

"It's not that much of an oddity. You need to know how to take care of yourself."

"True that." Alfred glances out the window. "Aw shit! Is it that late?" He says. The sky is darkening, bright red and gold decorating the expanse. "I need to get back before they close the dorms!" Arthur follows him down the stairs. Alfred grabs his jacket from the knob at the front as Arthur picks up the same book he hs been holding when Alfred had entered. He also grabs Copernicus' _On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres_ and holds it out to him. Alfred smiles as he takes it, also grabbing the other one.

"Hey!" Arthur cries.

"Dude relax! You said it was good, right? _Watership Down_? I'll read it and bring it back."

"You really want to?"

"Yup!" As Alfred turns back, he sees Arthur's face illuminated by a smile. "You finally smiled!" He cries happily. "You should do it more often. You look good." Arthur blushes.

"Sh-shut up!" Alfred laughs, waving over his shoulder as he walks down the road. He's about to turn the corner, when Arthur yells "Wait!" He turns.

"Yes?"

"Th-thank you. For earlier, with the bookcase. Thank you." A wide grin stretches across his face.

"You are very welcome."

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**So that's the first chapter. What did you guys think? Did I do okay? Was it serious enough? I tried to add some humor too, and the drama hasn't really started yet. They've only had their first encounter, which was a bit hectic, but still it seemed nice to me. I thought I did a pretty decent job for being serious and all.**

**Watership Down, for those of you who don't know, is a novel by Richard Adams about a warren of rabbits, specifically Hazel. It's an incredible novel, although a bit long, and I'd recommend it to everybody. The characters are loveable, the plot is original, and who doesn't love bunnies? So that's my personal connection with the story. Richard Adams is even British. Even better.**

_**On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres **_**is a book by Copernicus on the solar system and how it's heliocentric. When he first wrote and published it, he was constantly persecuted by people who believed that our solar system was geocentric. He wound up dying in a town in Poland with no family or legacy to leave behind besides this book. I haven't read it, but we talked about it in my world history class and I thought it suited this.**

**I really hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! If you have any questions, feel free to ask!**

**Reviews are love :) And love is happiness :D**


	2. To Work Hard

**WARNING: LOTS OF SWEARING! BAD WORDS AHEAD! Mmkay, enjoy!**

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To Work Hard

Alfred was exhausted by the time he got back to his dorm room. It had been a long trek from Arthur's bookstore back to the college and then he had discovered Professor Rome has already returned home from the night, so he had had to go to the teacher's house to give him the book. Upon arrival, Rome had welcomed him in and insisted he stay for coffee while he went on and on about his latest girlfriend. Rome wasn't old old, older than Alfred, but not that old. Which was strange considering he had grandkids. Alfred had been getting more and more curious until finally he had asked.

"Professor, why do you have grandkids when you're only…"

"51, Alfred. And that is because I was only 15 when I made a big mistake. It was at a party in high school, I had had a little too much to drink, and there was this girl, this beautiful senior girl, 3 years older than me. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Long dark red hair and bright green eyes, one of those feisty red-heads. We weren't careful and-"

"Okay,okay, I get it! But aren't your grandkids like my age?"

"The oldest is a bit older, the youngest was a bit younger."

"Was?"

"Was." The professor confirmed, a sad look in his eyes. "And I never said my son made better choices than me. He didn't have the nerve to stick around though. He disgusts me." Rome made a face.

"Then what happened to the girl you knocked up?"

"Blunt as always, Alfred. She died giving birth to Andre. Quite sad, really. Her family blamed me, and I was glad they did. It changed my life. I was incredibly remorseful, so I did my best to raise him with my mother's help, but I suppose I didn't do a very good job. As soon as he made the same mistake I did, he ran away and I haven't heard from him since. I helped Anna, the girl who was pregnant? She gave birth to Lovino and I helped her raise him, hoping I'd do a better job with him than Andre. She met someone and fell in love, and they had a second child. I thought I'd never see them again when she married him, but that wasn't true. She made sure the boys knew I was their grandfather, had me visit as much as I wanted. She was a wonderful girl."

"You're talking in past-tense again."

"Yes. Unfortunately, when the boys were quite young, she and her husband were in… an accident, one might call it. Simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. They passed away, leaving me to care for the two children left behind. I had hoped that was the end, however that wasn't the case. Lovino is hell-bent on revenge. He has… a dangerous job, to put it simply. And his brother… As much as I want to, I just can't blame him for it."

"What? Blame who for what? What happened?" Rome gave Alfred a small smile.

"Don't, Alfred. I'm not getting a young man as bright as yourself caught up in this. This is a Vargas family problem. It's best I say no more."

"But professor-"

"I said no, Alfred. You best be returning to the dorms. Good night." he stands, offering Alfred a handshake, letting him know their conversation is done.

"Yeah… Good night, professor."

…

"Yo dude! You were out late, amigo!" Alfred groans, flopping onto his bed, adjacent to Antonio's. Their room is small but not that cramped, although both sides are drastically different. Where Antonio opted for classic Spanish colors, reds and golds, with simple decor, a few pictures and an otherwise clean side, Alfred had huge posters of superheroes, bright colors and red white and blue everywhere. The American flag hung above his head in an expensive frame and his blankets were the same. Antonio always teased him about it, especially when he'd party extremely hard on the fourth of July. Normally, Alfred was all for gossiping about the latest news on the campus and around town, but today he had a lot to think about and something he intended to do.

"Yeah, Rome kept me at his house a long time." He shifted, pulling out a book from his old leather bombers jacket.

"What's that?" Antonito asked curiously.

"A book. A… friend recommended it to me."

"What's with the hesitation?"

"He might not agree with me on the whole 'friend' thing."

"Whoa! Someone might not like Alfred? That's incredible!"

"He is." Alfred breathes, remembering the bright smile that seemed to shine so bright when the man smiled for real.

"Oh? A potential relationship candidate? Ooooo how enticing!"

"Shut up!" Alfred flushes red, moving onto his side. "I'm reading now."

"Okay fine. Don't forget about work tomorrow."

"I won't."

Alfred cracked open the dusty old book and began to read.

_The primroses were over. Toward the edge of the wood..._

...

_He was running. Not quite sure where to, but he was running. _

_Following. Following something. _

_Something fast. A car? No. A bike. A motorcycle._

_How can he keep up with a motorcycle?_

_Dream?_

_Dream._

_Sirens. Loud wailing. Screaming. _

_A man. Policeman. A short policeman. Can't see his face._

_A boy. Cowering. Hiding behind another._

_More yelling. More violence. Fighting. Fists slamming into the opponent._

_Can't tell who. Floundering. Scared._

_As if all 3 men's feelings were flowing into him. 3 men? No. There were more. Two more. Men. No women there. It hurt. A lot. Too much. _

_He tries to move. Can't. Painful. Hurts._

_And the screaming. Louder and louder. Splitting his head._

_The policeman. A gun. A single shot._

"-fred!"

_Pain. Immense pain._

"Alfred!"

_A new scream. His own?_

"Alfred!"

_His own. Hurt. Pain. Mental. Physical. Both. More. Too much, painful, hurting, too, too much, too much, it's too-_

"ALFRED!" The blond shoots straight up in his bed, eyes wild, hair a mess, sweat running down his face. His bloodshot eyes flash up, landing on a concerned Spaniard standing above him.

"T-Tony?" His voice comes out like a hoarse gasp, and he grimaces, clearing his throat. The other man visibly relaxes.

"Thank goodness! Dios, man, what were you dreaming?" Alfred is about to respond but falters. For a moment, recognition flashes through his brain. _His voice... I swear I heard it. _So he answers

"I don't remember." And he doesn't. Not really. Because it didn't happen to him. All he knew was that what he saw was not himself. He was not supposed to see that. There was not a sixth man there. Not yet. It wasn't him. So he didn't remember. Not quite.

"Okay. Are you sure you're okay? You seem pale. More than normal."

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. What time is it?"

"It is..." Antonio looks at the clock on his nightstand. "11:28 AM."

"What?! Ah shit! I gotta be at work in half an hour!"

"I know. That's why I woke you up. That and the fact that you were screaming."

"I was screaming?!"

"Just kidding man! It was more like whimpers."

"That doesn't make me feel better." Antonio laughs.

"Get dressed, dude. We gotta go soon."

"Where are you going?"

"Meeting Lovi at the cafe across the street from your work."

"Ah really? That place is nice! Mind if I drop in for a latte?"

"Only if you pay for it yourself."

"Hmmph. You're no fun."

"It's called a date for a reason, amigo. Don't crash it." Alfred pouts as he threw on a pair of dark jeans and a dark blue dress shirt. He ties a red tie around his neck, completing the outfit. "Nice uniform." Alfred scoffs.

"Like you're much better! Mr. I'm-Going-On-A-Fancy-Date-With-My-Rich-Ass-Boyfriend. In your white dress shirt and khakis and, and fancy black shoes with the little tassel thingies that I forget what they're called."

"I'm not ashamed!"

"You shouldn't be. I wish I had a rich boyfriend."

"So you swing that way? You want a boyfriend? I can hook you up dude, you'd be popular."

"You know what I mean! And no. I don't want a boyfriend! I don't want a girlfriend either! I am perfectly happy being single!" The two continue to bicker good-naturedly as they walk out the door. "Wanna give me a ride to work, buddy, friend, pal 'o' mine?" Antonio groans, walking to his dark green Mustang. According to Antonio, ever since he had turned old enough to work and even before then, he had been saving all his money, all that he got from birthdays, holidays, work, odd jobs, allowance, etc. Finally, when he entered college at Galileo, his parents agreed to top the rest off for him, and he had been able to buy his dream car, the sleek, new Mustang. He was extremely proud of his car, and considering many college students didn't have nice cars like that, it didn't do much to inflate his ego.

"Fiiiiine. But only because I have to go that way to pick up Lovi anyway! You should be grateful you get to ride in it!"

"Yeah, yeah, god forbid you do something nice because you're, oh, I don't know, a nice person?"

"You know me! I don't have a single nice bone in my body. All bark and as much of the bite to back it up!"

"I thought that was your boyfriend."

"He's nice!" Alfred bursts into laughter as they load into the car. "He is!" Antonio protests. "Just only when he wants to be. And only to certain people. On certain days. When he's in a certain mood." He turns the ignition and they roll out of the car garage and onto the road.

"Yeah, sounds _real_ nice!"

"Pssh, nicer than you!"

"Ha! Haha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Good one Antonio! Because I'm soooooo mean!"

"Yeah well... Whatever!" He sticks his tongue out at the blond.

"Just proving my point, man! Find something more threatening than sticking your tongue out!"

"Fine then!" Antonio raises his hand, and… _BONK_.

"Um… What was that?"

"I hit you!"

"You tapped me on the head! How is that hitting me?"

"Shut up! It is!" He does the same thing, something like a karate chop only about 20 times lighter. And again. And again. He continues to repeat the same thing. Alfred just sits in the car, arms crossed, a bored look on his face as Antonio says "Take that! And that! Who's mean now?"

"Not you, that's for sure."

"Hey, I am too!" Antonio turns to get a better view of Alfred and continues. Alfred closes his eyes, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh noooo!" He teases. "I'm going to die of annoyment!" He laughs as a honk suddenly sounds to their left. Alfred looks up and lets out a very unmanly shriek. Antonio has ceased paying attention to the road, and the two are hurtling down the street, heading straight for another red light, as the driver they cut off at the previous one honks angrily. "DUDE!" He yells. "PAY ATTENTION! EYES ON THE ROAD!" Antonio spins to see what's going on and screams as loud as Alfred when he sees where they're headed. Screeching, he slams his foot onto the brakes. The tires squeal and they can smell the tang of burning rubber as the car screeches to a halt directly in front of the stoplight, just before they plowed into the middle of cross section. As the cars roar across the road through the light, the two men just sit in the car, breathing hard, shocked looks on their faces. "Shit." Alfred murmurs. "We were almost roadkill."

"How did we not hit anything?"

"I think you ran a red light. Possibly two."

"Aw man, I don't wanna have my license revoked!"

"Relax, there probably wasn't a camera there. It's not a very busy road."

"That's the last time I let you distract me!"

"I don't know, dude. I'm pretty damn distracting. I mean look at… this."

"You just gestured to all of you."

"Exactly."

"You're so weird."

"Thank you. Now go. We're holding up traffic. And pay attention!" As the two start to move again, Antonio rolls his eyes.

"Who's fault is it that I wasn't in the first place?"

"Well excuse me!"

"You're excused." They pull into the parking lot of Alfred's workplace. "Now get out of the car."

"Ouch! Don't be so harsh! You gonna give me a ride back?"

"...If I feel like it."

"So yes."

"If I feel like it!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"No?"

"Yes."

"Maybe?"

"We'll see."

"We'll see?"

"Yes!"

"So yes?"

"Yes!"

"Great!"

"Wha- Shit!" Alfred laughs as the Spaniard curses under his breath. "You always do this!" He complains.

"Hey, what's a little manipulation between friends?"

"It sucks!"

"Not my fault you're gullible."

"Grrr... Just be ready to leave at 5! I'll pick you up then, I guess..."

"Great! Thanks, man!"

"Whatever." Alfred jumps out of the car and walks into the shop.

It's a nice shop, a clothing store. A little boutique on one of the older streets, run by a nice couple and a few other workers. It was actually quite popular, a place that has a welcoming environment and no prejudice against age. The different sections were labelled by signs above them, the clothes stacked and hung on neat little racks and shelves. A few customers loiter around the clearance racks, browsing through the sales on blouses and half-off summer dresses. As he enters the shop, the man at the counter looks up and cheerily waves him over.

"Yo Al!" Alfred smiles and walks over to him. The man is tall, with white hair and white skin and red eyes and a permanent smirk, something he claimed he was born with. "How's my favorite college dude?"

"I thought that was Tony."

"Nah man, he's my favorite drinking buddy!"

"I thought that was Francis."

"Nope, he's my favorite party buddy!"

"I thought that was Roderich."

"That's only certain times. He has the best German sparkle parties! He and Elizabeta host great ones!"

"What, really? They seem so chill!"

"Dude that's only because they gotta run this place! Dudes can party! I remember their last one, last year. Beer was literally flowing down the halls, the disco ball was half-broken and smashed from people swinging from it, the DJ moved away, vowing to never work at German sparkle parties again, we traumatized the neighbors, streaked through the streets, got arrested (twice), had sex many times, and partied from dawn till dusk and the next day through! Some monkeys wound up crashing the party from the research lab over in Silace, they were a blast, man! I felt kinda bad for the whole dude-I'm-gonna-swing-from-your-disco-ball-until-it-breaks thing, but Roderich said it was fine. Tony and Lovino got it on, too! Lovino was so drunk, man, it was hysterical! And he's a mean drunk! Mean anyway, but a meaner drunk! Tony knew what he was doing though, they went at it into the wee hours of the night. He was screaming. Kesesese, it was funny! I got kinda tired of it, so me Francis, Arthur, Roderich, Elizabeta, Vash & his little sister Lili went out and crashed all the bars in town. We drank so fucking much, dude, it was amazing! That was the best party, bro."

"So that's where Tony went last New Year's!"

"Yup! We'll invite you this year, man! The only one who knew you last year was Tony; didn't want you feeling awkward."

"Sounds like I would've been the least awkward thing there. Wait, did you say Arthur?"

"Hmm? Yeah, why?"

"Arthur as in Arthur Kirkland? From the bookstore?"

"That's the one!"

"Seriously?! He doesn't seem like the type to do that!"

"He's an awesome drunk!"

"Can't hold his booze?"

"Not even close."

"Now that, that, suits him well! But how do you know him?"

"Oh, I don't, not that well, anyway. Elizabeta is friends with him, and so's Francis. They were on the same force together."

"Force?"

"Yeah, the same-"

"Excuse me?" A small girl has walked up to the register. She's short, with short blond hair and soft, gentle dark green eyes. She's wearing a dark pink dress and a vivid green ribbon.

"Whoa... Is that you Lili?!"

"Haha, I thought you'd react like this."

"Why the fuck would you cut your hair?!"

"I thought Vash would like it. Do I look like him?"

"Too much like him! Honestly, you and your brother complex! Oh yeah, Alfred, this is Lili Zwingli."

"The girl who went drinking with you guys on New Years? But she looks so young! Like you're 16 or something!" The girl smiles brightly.

"I get that quite a bit. I'm actually 19. So you're the famous Alfred?"

"Yeah I- Wait how do you know me?" The two chuckle and Alfred looks curiously at them.

"Should we tell him?"

"Nah! Just ask Antonio to tell you what he told us."

"Oh shit. You didn't believe what he said, did you? Did you?!" They both laugh again as the albino leads Lili away. Alfred watches them go.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was one of those people you didn't want to know and yet knew about anyway. The opposite of Antonio. And yet somehow they were best friends along with the elusive Francis, someone who Alfred had yet to meet, and yet had heard many rumors of the mysterious Frenchman who has wooed half the town's female population. The albino man was tall, obnoxious, strange, and he had an odd obsession with cute little animals, namely birds. In fact, he had one, a small fluffy yellow bird, that always sit on his shoulder. Alfred had asked him about it one day and all Gilbert had said was "That's Gilbird! He's almost as awesome as me! Kesesese!" And his laugh. It was a strange combination between a laugh and a hiss, almost sort of endearing. He had silvery white hair, short, spiky and straight, almost as pale as his skin, which was a pasty white. His red eyes were always down turned into a glare, even when he didn't mean to, and he wore a permanent smirk, a wide grin that never seemed quite serious, let alone real. However, with all the German man's many, many, many faults, he was a good guy.

Alfred sighs, turning back to the counter, surveying the store. Few customers were there, something that had been happening more and more. His eyes narrow as they land on a group of men, big, burly men, tall, with dark town hair and tanned skin, clean black suits, sunglasses on their foreheads, tattoos covering them from head to toe. They were loud, obnoxious, and they were the reason people were hesitating to visit the store. The men never bought anything, just hung around for some reason that was unknown to Alfred. Sometimes they'd bother a customer, scaring them into leaving, but otherwise they were just a nuisance. As Gilbert walks back to the counter, Alfred asks.

"Who are those guys anyway?" Gilbert looks over at the men, and glares at them, intense hatred radiating from his eyes, and Alfred has to stop and wonder what was wrong.

"Don't get involved with those douchebags." He growls, venom practically spewing from his voice. "They're only trouble."

"Okay then." Gilbert turns on him, grabbing his shoulders.

"I'm serious! Look, Al, you're smart. You have a bright future. You're way too young to be getting into shit with _them_. And I'd stay away from Arthur as well."

"Wha-"

"Just... Be careful who you make friends with around here. There's a lot more going on than you know."

"...alright. I guess." He adds warily. He's never seen Gilbert like this, and he can't help but wonder what happened in the past to make him get this worked up. He also decides it's better to not ask. So he turns back to the register.

"Good. I'm going to the back, Lili wanted me to check on a dress in a different color for her."

"Alright." He watches as Gilbert recedes, but his attention is drawn back to the men when he hears their voices raised even louder than normal.

"What'd you say?!" The biggest one, the one with a tattoo of a skull on the left side of his neck, is towering over the girl Alfred had been introduced to, Lili.

"Um..." The girl wavers, hands clenching into fists at her side, obviously terrified. "I-I just said e-excuse me. I w-want to look at the c-clothes on that rack."

"What?! So now a guy can't stand where he wants to?! Oh, god forbid, I'm in front of some shitty clothes! Who're you to tell us what to do?!"

"I-I wasn't trying to-"

"Oh sure you won't! Hey... I know you! You're that asshole Vash's sister! That douche owes me a new earring! You see this?!" He points to a bloody scan on his right ear over a small hole. "Your brother did that! Jus cuz I said I wouldn't pay for the pistol! He ripped it out and said 'This's my payment. Now leave.'! Wonder if he'll like it if I do the same to his sister!" He steps forward menacingly, arms outstretched for Lili. As the girl quavers under the man's steely glare, Alfred swallows, and sprints around the counter, grabbing the man's hands in his own, effectively preventing him from grabbing the small girl. "Oi! Out of my way!"

"I'm sorry, but please don't hurt the customers." He responds, his voice icy. "She actually wants to buy something, rather than just loiter around like losers because they think they're all cool, when really they're just obnoxious jerks who don't have anywhere better to be because they can't get girlfriends."

"Why you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. _Boy_friends. That better?" He offers his million-watt smile, but his eyes are still angry and cold.

"No, it ain't! You asshole! Who do you think you are?! I'll teach you to mind your place, dickface!" He shoves forward, and Alfred finds himself grappling with the man. He's much bigger than Alfred, and much tougher looking too, but he's not as strong. Alfred had always had an abnormal amount of strength for a regular person, no one could quite figure out why. It wasn't quite Captain America level, but he was strong, making him even better than sports, aside from his natural aptitude. However he was still leaps and bounds ahead of most people, but the fact that this man could compete with him impressed Alfred. So he shoved back. The man didn't move as far as he had expected him too, but his muscles were bulging with the effort to shove him back. "So you're one 'a those footballers from the states? Not bad pipsqueak. But you're gonna regret this!" The other two men who been watching until this point flooded forward, and as his hands were occupied, their fists connected. Groaning, he stumbled.

"Hey, that's not fair! It's three against one!"

"Not quite," a voice sounds behind him. "Two on three sound better, Al?" he looks to see Gilbert standing next to him.

"Gil!"

"Man, i told you not to get involved with them!"

"They were picking on Lili!"

"Oh really? Well I sent her away, so it's all good." he turns his attention on the men. "So you've been bothering my friend's i'l sis? Not cool. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

"That's what I said!" The two share a grin when a loud voice resounds in front.

"You fuckers! Stop making fun of us!" A different one said this, thinner and wiry with oily black hair and beady dark eyes, the type of guy who looks like he has seven nervous tics.

"We'll kick your asses!" The bigger one says this.

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try!" Gilbert goads, while Alfred flexes his fingers.

"Come at me, bro." And they do. The five men are a blur in the otherwise empty store, all the other customers having escaped when they realized there was going to be a fight. The men crash into the clothing racks, creating a huge mess, breaking a few things that will surely come out of Gilbert's and Alfred's paychecks, but that's not on their minds. For each blow the two managed to land, two more came their own way. These men were certainly not new to fighting, and the three were strong, each using what they knew to their advantage. Alfred could barely touch the little one, while he hit the big one too much, and it seemed to do little to no damage. The third man would wait until there was an opening and go for either one of the opposing two-man team, hitting their unprotected weak spots. But that's not to say that Gilbert and Alfred were losing. With Alfred's brute strength and speed, and Gilbert's experience, they made a formidable team, landing blow after blow. But they were getting tired. Fighting isn't easy, especially not when you're outnumbered, and their bruises had started to ache and throb, while the three men seemed to not notice it. As Alfred went for the little one again, the big one threw Gilbert off him and into a shoe shelf, hard enough to break the solid wood. "Gil!" The albino groans, sitting up, rubbing his sore back.

"Fuckers…" He muttered, looking up at Alfred, whose attention has been diverted to his fallen friend, darting over to his side after delivering a fist into the little one's face. As he sees Alfred's worried face, he also notices the big brute holding a table above Alfred, who's not paying attention, and he starts to bring it down on his unsuspecting head. "AL!" He yells, starting to freak out about what he'll say to Alfred's parents if their son winds up in a coma or worse. _Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Jones, I'm Gilbert. Sorry about causing your son to get life-threateningly injured overseas because I helped him pick a fight with the worst people. Shit, no! _He thinks, wild-eyed. However, he had no reason to worry. As Alfred turns to look behind him, two hands connect with the table, grabbing it and effectively holding it up above Alfred. A new man has joined the fray. A very, very familiar man.

"Tony!" Alfred cries happily. "Thanks dude, I had no idea they were that low."

"Honestly, Alfred, you made me ruin my date!" The Spaniard complains as he finally manages to overpower the big man with the help of Alfred, shoving one of the table legs into his stomach. "What's the big idea! You did this on purpose!"

"No, no I did not. Why are you here?" He asks as he smacks the little one, as Antonio helps Gilbert up.

"Do you have any idea how loud you guys were being? I'm only a few doors down! I told Lovi I was going to check on what's happening, and I find you two. I told you you'd like Alfred, Gil."

"Ja, ja, let's get back to the matter at hand! Duck!" Antonio does and Gilbert's fist connects with the third man's face as Alfred kicks the big one in the shin.

"Sí, but tell me what happened later." And they go at it again, this time three on three. And this time it's much more brutal, if it wasn't serious before, it is now. Maybe it was because the odds are even now, maybe because the men were tired of being made fun of, maybe because they just wanted a real fight. Either way, at the rate they were going, someone was going to get seriously hurt. If it hadn't been for a fourth man. An Italian. A very angry, very pissed Italian.

_BANG!_

The blast resounds through the room, pieces of the ceiling falling onto the ground. The men freeze in their positions, fists raised in mid-air. Wide-eyed they turn to look at the man who has blasted the gun.

A seriously pissed man stands in the front door, his tanned skin glistening with sweat from running. The light green eyes flashed onto the three men, then Alfred, Gilbert, and finally Antonio, on who they narrow angrily. The fancy white dress shirt he had on has dust from the ceiling plaster on it, much more visible on the chic black vest he wore over it. The black slacks look extremely hot, as it's about 90⁰ outside. His soft dark brown looks perfectly tousled, framing his face elegantly, aside from a strange hair curl sticking out on his right side, which, in a way, is very cute. He's an extremely attractive man- if it wasn't for the furious scowl plastered on his face.

"AN-TON-I-O!" He roars, much louder than Alfred anticipated, causing him to wince. "THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Antonio grimaces before plastering on a sheepish smile.

"H-hey Lovi! I just, well, they needed my help, see, and I couldn't just leave them; they're my friends! You understand right?" The man frowns, rolling his eyes. "Put the gun away, alright? You don't need to use it."

"I clearly did! None of you heard me the first billion times anyway, bastard!"

"Oh, you called us? Lo siento, Lovi!"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up! You three!" He snaps, gaze flicking to the three men. "Stand down." his voice is so low and angry, the men immediately obey. Then he looks at Gilbert. "Can't trust you, German dickwad. You'll just go on about how awesome you are, which is none, by the way!"

"Hey! I'm plenty awesome!" The Italian cuts him off before he can finish defending himself.

"You." Alfred's blue eyes flashes back to the man.

"M-me?"

"Yes, you! What happened?"

"W-well," he starts, a bit nervous at the aura surrounding the man. "I work here with gilbert. We were running the store, Gil was in the back, when they started harassing a girl. That's not cool, so I stepped in, and I might've insulted them… quite a few times… A-anyway, they started it! And then Gil came back and helped me, and then they threw him into a table and when I was checking on him, that one," he says, pointing to the big man, "tried to smash a table no my head and that's when Tony came in and we all got into this really big fight until you came and broke it up." The Italian nods at him, before looking at the three men.

"You three! I've told you, you cannot, under no circumstances, start fights for no goddamn reason!" He yells, fury igniting in his green eyes. "And on top of that, you were harassing a girl?!"

"B-but Boss, she was that Vash-dick's little sister, I just wanted-"

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU I'LL BUY YOU ANOTHER FUCKING EARRING; LET IT GO! I DON'T NEED UNNECESSARY ENEMIES! Dammnit, Vash was a good supplier! I doubt he'll even fucking talk to me now! Dickwads! Apologize!"

"What?! But-"

"FUCKING APOLOGIZE BEFORE I RIP YOUR DICK OFF AND FORCE YOU TO FUCKING EAT IT!" The men turn white as sheets and quickly start apologizing over and over to the three men, one of whom was extremely confused.

"Boss…?" Alfred whispers, clearly wondering who this man was. Sighing, the Italian turns back to them and steps over to Alfred.

"They're shitbrains, the lot of them. I apologize for my men's thoughtless actions. Will this be enough?" he asks, pulling the check he had been writing on out of his wallet. Handing it to Alfred, he takes it and freaks out.

"HOLY SHIT! THIS IS FOR $1,000!"

"Yes, I know. Will it be enough to repair the shop, American?" He says it like an insult, and Alfred frowns before deciding it best to leave it to be.

"Enough and more, dude."

"Then keep the extra. You three," he stands over the cowering thugs. "We. Are. Leaving. And you owe me a date, Antonio!"

"Aye aye, captain!" The man smiles a goofy grin, pulling the Italian into a hug.

"L-let go!" he stammers, and Antonio does. He brushes the dust off his shoulders and walks out the door, leaving the three thugs to follow after, and the other three in the store. After a moment, Alfred asks the question he'd been dying to ask.

"Who was that?" Gilbert smirks.

"I'll let Tony take this one." Antonio rolls his eyes.

"That, amigo, was Lovino Vargas. My boyfriend, and the boss of the Vargas family mafia."

* * *

**A/N: Hey, hey, hey! Chapter 2 is here! I spent a lot more time on this one, so it's a bit longer! Sorry Arthur isn't in it, but it wasn't a good idea to bring him ni again just yet. He still barely knows ****Alfred, so it would be weird if he showed up. Plus it didn't suit the plot line. He'll be in the next chapter though! Maybe. I'm not sure. And yes Francis will be coming up in the story pretty soon too. I'm sure you all have pieced together a bit of the plot already, considering there is the mafia. And cops. And they don't really mix, now do they?**

**Summer is here! Today was my last day of school! I'll have a lot more time to write, and at the same time I won't. I'll be with friends a bunch, so I'm not sure how fast the next chapter will come out.**

**I apologize for the massive amount of swearing in this chapter. And the part where Alfred says they don't have boyfriends. I did not mean it to sound like a dig at gays, and I apologize if I offended someone. Alfred's just being sassy, he's not trying to insult anyone. And I also apologize for any grammatical errors or spelling. It wasn't intentional, except for a few obvious ones.**

**So what'd you guys think? You like? Review and I hope you enjoyed!**

**Reviews are love :) & love is happiness :D**


	3. To Use Your Charm

To Use Your Charm

"He seriously is? Man, I just can't wrap my head around that," Alfred muttered as he walked down the small street, illuminated by lanterns and lamp posts, casting a beautiful yet eerie glow around him. "It's even been two days already."

Yes, two days had passed since Alfred had met the enigma that was Lovino Vargas. The Italian was handsome, violent, foul-mouthed, and yet the few stories Alfred had managed to coax out of Antonio after he had gotten him hopelessly drunk made Lovino sound more cowardly than… well, mafia-like. Alfred couldn't think of a good word to describe it. It didn't make any sense. A smile crosses Alfred's face as he remembers what happened after Lovino had left.

...

"...what." Gilbert had taken one look at his face and had burst out laughing.

"Al, seriously, you should see your face right now! Best ever!" He guffaws. Antonio rolled his eyes.

"I'm telling the truth, amigo."

"You can't be! There is NO way that guy can even be in the mafia, let alone lead it!"

"He's brutal, man." Antonio said. "You haven't seen him when he's serious. Just 'cause he doesn't like fighting people doesn't mean he's a wimp."

"I gotta agree with Tony here, Al. I had the same reaction you did when he told me, but… Well, let's just say I've seen the time he was seriously pissed and it ain't pretty."

"_The _time? It was only once?" Gilbert and Antonio had shared uneasy glances, before answering.

"Yeah," Antonio had said. "Once."

"What happe-"

"Okay!" Gilbert had interrupted, sticking his hand out.. "Why don't we all go drinking to celebrate our victory, what do you guys say? Three musketeers?" Antonio had smiled and nodded, adding his hand to the center. Alfred had paused. It was more than obvious that they were hiding something. They didn't want to tell him about it, and this was seriously starting to bother Alfred. But he had decided to figure it out later. Sighing, he smiled and added his hand as well. The three had laughed and performed a three-way fist bump. And that was when Elizabeta and Roderich had returned. And screamed. Well, more like Roderich shrieked and Elizabeta had roared

"GILBERT!" At the top of her lungs. Lady got pipes. And of course, Gilbert did the completely normal reaction. He had sped out the door, arms and legs pumping, heading for safety. And Elizabeta did the completely normal thing as well, and followed, dragging him back to the store just as Alfred had finished telling Roderich what happened and Antonio had finished laughing. Sighing and a bit scared, Roderich went to calm his spouse down.

"Elizabeta," he said, almost inaudible, coming out as a squeak, as Alfred and Antonio giggled under their breath. Roderich was not the most manly person out there. Clearing his throat, the Austrian tried again. "Elizabeta!" Hearing him, the pretty woman had dropped Gilbert's collar, leaving the albino to drop onto the ground, half conscious, as Antonio walked away.

"I'm getting him water," he had explained. Alfred nodded as the couple whispered in hushed voices. He had walked over to Gilbert and kneeled down. Poking him proved to have no reaction. Poking him many times seemed to be a better option and Alfred snickered at the albino''s half-hearted attempts to push his hand away. And then Antonio had returned. With a huge pitcher full of water. Which he had tipped onto Gilbert's head and continued to pour until it was all empty, leaving Gilbert coughing and spluttering. As the Spaniard shook the pitcher to make sure it was all gone, Gilbert had started cursing in German at him while Alfred just laughed hysterically. Elizabeta grinned, while Roderich just had this look on his face like '_I'm surrounded by idiots. IDIOTS._' which had only made Alfred laugh harder, which caused Antonio to finally start laughing, which caused Gilbert to start giggling, until the three of them were sitting in the large puddle of water just laughing together. And then Roderich spoke up.

"Alfred, Gilbert," he had began, catching the men's attention. "I understand that this is only partially your fault. But that's partially, meaning you still have some blame. However, Alfred, you not only saved Lili, who is the sister of one of my close friends, but you also scared off those men that were causing us so much trouble. Elizabeta and I agree that you deserve a slightly higher wage-" He broke off as his wife elbowed him. "Pardon me. _Higher_ wage." he grumbled. "More than minimum wage." It was well-known that Roderich was very stingy, so it was clear that he was only doing this because of Elizabeta. "So we shall elevate your pay to what we give Gilbert." At this, the albino had protested.

"But I'm the assistant manager! How is that fair?"

"Then I guess we have two assistant managers, don't. We." Elizabeta had hissed at him.

"I helped! I want a pay increase!"

"You only helped because Alfred had already started the fight. You wouldn't have stepped in alone, Gilbert, you're a coward." Roderich had stated.

"Oh yeah? Well I'm better than you, girly-man! You wouldn't fight anyway, you'd be too afraid that you'd break a nail!"

"How dare you!" The two glared daggers at each other until Elizabeta had stepped between them.

"Really! This childish rivalry is over, you know. Honestly, you both could never go one day without insulting each other. It's a miracle you haven't killed each other yet!"

"They know each other?" Alfred had asked Antonio as the trio bickered. He had nodded.

"Stella is a small town, aside from the college. Most everyone has lived here their whole lives. I remember those three from high school, always together and always fighting! They were seniors when I was a sophomore though. I always knew Roderich and Elizabeta would end up together. Gil knew it too, he just didn't like it. It's part of why they always fight."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Yeah. Foreign students like you are rare around here."

"I hadn't noticed." Alfred had answered sarcastically as Elizabeta turned back to him.

"Thank you for helping Lili, Alfred!" she said, pulling him into a hug. "I am very close with her. You deserve the pay raise, you're a very hard worker. You can have the next two days off as well! You too, Gilbert." she had added. "We'll have to close shop to repair." At this, Alfred had perked up and put his hand in his pocket

"Oh yeah!" he said, withdrawing the check Lovino had given him. "Lovino Vargas gave me this, to pay for the damage. He said to keep the extra." Elizabeta had taken it and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"Well, this is plenty! We could even upgrade our kitchen, Roddy!" She cried happily, showing her husband.

"Well, I think this vacation is much deserved." Gilbert had said, walking out the door. "See you later, Elizabeta. _Roddy._" He smirked at his final dig at the Austrian. "Hey, you two coming? Drinks on me!" Hurrying after him, Antonio and Alfred had nodded their thanks to the couple before following Gilbert to the nearest bar, where Antonio and Gilbert had both gotten hopelessly drunk. Alfred, not knowing where Gilbert lived, had decided to call Elizabeta. After calling them, surprisingly, it was another man who had come to pick up Gilbert, saying Elizabeta had called him. The man was blond, with chin-length slightly curly hair and vivid blue eyes. Stubble lined his chin and a sly grin was on his face. His pale skin was sleek and smooth, and expensive-looking black silk shirt, white tie, black slacks combination was quite surprising, especially for someone who only came out to collect a drunk. A tired smile wore thin on his lips, clearly signalling he had done this before. Many. Many. Times.

"No time to talk, mon ami, but I have a feeling we shall see each other later, oui?" Grinning, the man had hefted Gilbert onto his back and strolled out the bar's doors, waving behind him. Alfred hadn't said a single word, just staring at the new man, clearly French, and dressed extremely fashionably for so late at night. Deciding that this was most definitely the elusive Francis, Alfred had payed for the drinks, which he had anticipated doing the whole time, and helped Antonio into his car. They had driven back to the dorm in silence, and Antonio collapsed on his bed without even getting changed. Alfred had showered, washing the stench of booze off of him, before climbing into his own bed. He also decided to skip school the next day. When he realized he needed to call Prof. Rome and his other teachers to tell them he wouldn't be in class the next day, he had almost fallen asleep. _Figures, _he had thought. Picking up his cellphone off the dresser, he selected the contact and dialed the number. He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Alfred? Why are you calling me so late? Is something wrong?" Professor Rome had said, and Alfred had winced when he saw the time, not realizing it was already the next day.

"No, no! I just, um… I don't feel very good, and, um…" He had never been good at avoiding school. It wasn't a good habit to have, and Alfred usually only skipped school when he didn't feel good. He was a terrible liar. His voice trailed off and he hoped that Rome got the idea.

"...I see. Has anyone told you you're a bad liar, Alfred?" His groan must not have been in his head like he thought, as the professor laughed. "I understand. Tomorrow we're covering more on Galileo, I'll have Antonio bring you your notes. And I'll tell your other teachers. Who are they?" Alfred hadn't said a word, completely shocked at this turn of events. "Alfred?"

"O-oh! Right! Sorry, um, Professor Germania. I have ancient history with him."

"Damn!" Rome had cursed into the phone, also surprising Alfred. "Of all teachers, it just has to be Germania, huh? Great."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no, he and I just… We go way back."

"You mean you knew each other in the BC's?"

"...Very funny. You should be grateful, Alfred. I don't normally do this for students. I should be telling you to get off your lazy ass and go to class tomorrow instead of ditching."

"Then why aren't you?"

"Does the name Rome _Vargas_ ring any bells?"

"...No way! You're that dude's-"

"Lovino is my grandson. I heard all about what happened. Good night Alfred." He had hung up without another word, leaving yet another surprise for Alfred to think about. Groaning in annoyance, he had flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

...

He woke up late the next day, only to find Antonio passed out across from him on his own bed. Sunlight was filtering in through the too-white curtains that Antonio insisted made the room 'sparkle with elegance'. Alfred insisted on installing an industrial-sized blind under them. Too bad college dorms didn't allow renovations. So he was stuck with curtains that didn't hide light at all. Just made it spread around further. Sitting up, he stumbled to the small kitchen he shared with Antonio. Upon opening the fridge, he discovered that they had eaten their way through the majority of the food, and he'd have to go out to buy some soon. Just another problem in the life of an international college student. He wound up eating a piece of toast, which was really just a slice of slightly warm bread. And, of course, coffee. Maybe it was an American thing, maybe it was him. Either way, Alfred liked his coffee black. No cream, no milk, no sugar, just plain, straight-from-the-pot coffee. Antonio tried a sip once and had promptly spit it out- all over Alfred's face. And then proceeded to laugh hysterically as Alfred just stared straight ahead, wearing a poker-face, as coffee dripped from his glasses. Grimacing at the memory, he had grumbled something to Antonio about going out, and had left the dormitory and gone back into town, intending to buy some groceries from one of Italy's famous markets. And he had taken the keys. Hopping into Antonio's Mustang, he had driven off smiling.

He had taken longer than he thought, enjoying the sights and sounds and colors and tastes of the outdoor merchants. People were crying out names of fruits and vegetables and meats, and something Alfred had never heard of. Approaching one of the vendors, he plastered on his golden smile and with a happy tone in his voice, had said "Hello! Sorry, but what exactly is a 'Sambuco'?" The vendor, a young woman, probably in her early twenties looked over at him and her cheeks flushed red as Alfred studied her. She had curly auburn hair falling to her mid-back, and soft light green eyes. Freckles spattered her nose and when she smiled back at him, she had dimples. Small, but they were there. She didn't look Italian. _Yeah, I can work with this! Free stuff, here I come! _Alfred had always subconsciously used his charm and good-looks to get things for free. It was only recently that he had learned to use it to his advantage, and while he felt a little bad about it, all he had to do was think of the economy. Poof! Worries all gone! The girl took a moment to collect herself before responding.

"Th-they're a type of berry. They're also known as black elderberries. It's pretty good in jams like these, but I wouldn't advise eating them raw. They're slightly poisonous when they aren't ripe, and it's hard to tell whether they are or not. Would you like to try it?" She smiled, offering him a small amount of the sticky black jam on a cracker.

"Of course!" Alfred said, not about to pass up a chance for free food. Taking the cracker, he popped the whole thing in his mouth. The sweet flavor of the berries spread over his tongue and he smiled, enjoying the stickiness and saccharine taste of the jam. "Delicious!" He exclaimed after he had swallowed. "This is pretty good! Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes!" The girl eagerly responded. "My family runs a small farm a ways out from here, we grow a variety of food! It's what we did in Ireland too."

"I knew you weren't Italian!" Alfred was pretty proud of this.

"Is it that obvious?" The girl timidly said, a bit embarrassed.

"Don't worry! I'm a foreigner too. American."

"Really? It's not just me then." She said laughing.

"Say, I don't suppose you'd let me have a little more of that jam? It's sweet. Just like you." He adds, winking at her, hiding a smile as the girl turns bright red. She looks around before passing him a jar of the jam.

"Here. It's on the house. Don't tell anyone though!" She whispers.

"Course not! Hey, maybe I'll see you around?" He says, walking away. Offering a little wave, he strolls down the road, feeling quite proud of himself. He later proceeded to get some quinces, tomatoes, and fresh cut pancetta from other vendors. All pretty girls. All fell prey to his good looks and suave attitude. He was unaware of a man watching him during this, and as he stepped back into his 'borrowed' car, he decided he wasn't ready to go home yet. Instead, he drove out of the city.

The roads weren't crowded at all, and he seldom saw another car. Stella was a pretty small town and it was miles from the nearest big city, which was Naples. The day gradually turned to evening, and as night approached Alfred finally found what he was looking for. Parking on the side of the road, he hopped out of his car and walked for another few minutes until he reached what he had seen.

The ground dropped sharply a few feet in front of him, overlooking the vast Mediterranean Sea. The roaring waves crashed onto the rocks far below, but you could barely hear them from 50 feet up. A single tree grew in the tall golden grass, high branches heavy with ripe, juicy red apples. The grass was very tall, reaching Alfred's knees, but when he reached the tree, it trickled away to just above his heel, making a nice cushion when he sat down. Here, the sky was clear and blue, one of the most beautiful skies he had ever seen. As he sat, biting into one of the delicious fruits, he watched as the blue faded into pink then purple and finally, to black. He breathed out sharply. You could see the stars for miles, bright and clear. The Milky Way was truly a sight to see, and here, you could see so much. This was just what Alfred had been looking for. That's when he stood. Smiling, he walked back to the car, and as he got in, he only had one person he wanted to show this too. Although he wasn't quite sure why.

…

To say Antonio was pissed when he got back was an understatement.

"Not only did you not wake me for class, you ate the rest of the food AND took my car! Not cool! No se puede simplemente tomar mis cosas! Mal! Mal Alfred!" Alfred chuckled as his friend switched over to Spanish. "Yo estaba pensando en ver a Lovino después ... Y las cosas 'fijación', por supuesto. Huhuhuhu …" Antonio muttered under his breath, and Alfred couldn't hold it anymore. Breaking out into his unique laugh, the one that you couldn't decide if you hated or loved, he responded.

"You know I speak Spanish, right, dude? 'Fixing' things? How are you planning on doing that?" He laughed harder as Tony's face grew red. "Never mind, I think I know!"

"Damnit, Al! How am I supposed to talk to myself without you understanding me?!"

"I don't know man. My parents wanted me to get 'accustomed' to the world, so they taught me some Chinese, Japanese, French, German, Russian, and I studied Spanish and Italian. So learn Flemish. I don't know that." Antonio just angrily cursed at him, before plopping into the chair next to him.

"So what did you get?" Smirking, Alfred reaches into his bag.

"Fear not, for I have brought… FOOD!" He pulls out the jam, fruits, bread and cured meats. Antonio smiles wide.

"Dude, let's feast!"

"No, no, no. We'll eat it all! We gotta make it last, man! I got a lot, so you can chill!"

"Oh fine."

The two shared a pleasant meal that night, of pancetta and mozzarella sandwiches, along with some of the sambuco jam. They talked about a lot of things until they heard a knock on their door.

"I got it!" Alfred said, bounding over to the door. "Hello?" He opened the door on a small Asian boy, short black hair falling to his chin framing his face. He wears a plain white t-shirt with a picture of an animated yellow mouse-like creature and red sweatpants. Dark brown eyes are narrowed in a calm, collected way and he has a serene look on his face. "Kiku! Hey dude, what're you doing here?" Alfred cries happily, pulling the Japanese boy into a hug.

"H-hello, Alfred-san. I have brought the notes from the lesson for both you and Antonio."

"Aw, thanks dude! Did you make both extras yourself?"

"Hai. I hope they are sufficient." He replies, handing the sheets to the American. As Alfred flips through them, his smile widens.

"Wow! These are better than my regular notes! I should skip school everyday if these are what I get!"

"Please don't. My hand is very sore from writing it all. I also have your calculus notes, as well as Antonio's chemistry notes. Bram told me to give them to him."

"That Dutch guy with the funky hair? I thought he hated Tony!"

"Appearances are not always what they seem."

"Aw Kiku, you're so profound! thanks again dude, that was awesome of you."

"I am happy to be of help." The boy bowed before walking back down the hall as Alfred closed the door.

"Who was that?"

"Kiku! He brought us our notes for the day."

"But I only have one class with Kiku. How'd he get my chem notes?"

"Bram made 'em for you."

"Qué? Really? I thought he hated me!"

"Appearances ain't always what they seem!"

"...Kiku said that, didn't he?"

"...Maybe."

And so the day ended uneventful for the two. As Alfred went to sleep, he couldn't help but think of Arthur. The strange bookstore owner had certainly captivated him, and Alfred couldn't help but want to crack his hard outer shell.

"He's a good guy! I can tell!" He encouraged himself, and closed his eyes.

…

_Rain. Wet. Cold. Dark. Running. Not again. I don't want this again._

_But this time was different. It was the same place and yet it was different. He was seeing from someone else's view. Same men. Different perspective._

_Hiding. From who? Behind who?_

_More yelling. I'm scared. It's loud. This place…_

_This is where I was yesterday! Well, somewhat. I can see the tree in the distance._

_A voice brought his attention back to the men. A familiar voice. Another familiar voice._

_Then the gun. Shit. BANG._

_And the pain. Familiar. All of it is. Pain._

_Fear. Pain. Anger. Pain. Sadness. Pain. Too much again._

_Need to wake up. Hurts._

_Wake up._

_Hurts._

_Wake up!_

_Hurts._

_WAKE. UP._

Alfred's eyes snap open. For a moment he lays there, breathing hard, staring up at the plain white ceiling above him. His room. Sighing, he sits up. And then he notices that his sheets are drenched in sweat and he's shivering. Holding up his hand, he watches it tremble before him. Glancing at the clock, his face falls. 4:00 AM. Class doesn't start for another 4 hours. And there's no way he's going to be able to fall asleep again. Instead, he stands up, gathering the sheets off his bed. Throwing on a plain t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans, he grabs the sheets and leaves the room. Tossing them into the laundry room in the commons, he ties his tennis shoes and leaves the dorm.

The morning light is just starting to trickle over the horizon, illuminating the town in a soft pink light. For some reason, Alfred didn't want to take the car today. He chose to just walk. Not sure where he was going, his feet lead him to the edge of town. While it warmed up midday, it was still quite cold in the mornings. November was a nice month for the region Alfred lived in. Lost in thought, his feet led him out of the sleeping town and down the road he had gone last night.

_Why do I keep having that weird dream? It has nothing to do with me. I don't even know if it happened or not! And… I thought you weren't supposed to feel pain in dreams… So why am I? _Shaking his head hard, Alfred lets out a frustrated shout.

"Damnit! How am I gonna get a good night's sleep if I have to with _this_ every other time I fall asleep!" Sighing, he looks at the ground and continues walking, kicking a rock across the street. He watches as it skitters along the ground and into the grass on the side of the road. "Well. No point in thinking about it now. Might as well relax. Man, I don't like stress!" He chuckles to himself. Glancing up, he sees a familiar sight. "Hey! That's that tree!" For some reason, Alfred's feet have led him back to the apple tree he found last night.

Smiling, he walks over to it, breaking off one of the juicy fruits. Biting into it, he sits and watches the sun rise over the horizon. The water turns a vivid pinky-red and the clouds drifting over the vast expanse of sky tinge with gold. The wind creates a breeze that swishes the grass, making a nice sound, and the waves crash onto the rocks far below. Enjoying his apple, Alfred smiles.

"Now this. This is nice. I could get used to this." As he eats the last bite, he leans back against the tree, and closes his eyes.

…...

The man was driving down the empty road, heading back to Stella after visiting his brother. The sun was blocked by rain clouds, the small droplets falling from the heavy gray clouds. Which only added to the man's already fowl mood.

"Stupid Sean…" He grumbles to himself. "I was only there because I heard he broke his leg! He didn't have to be an ass to me and order me around the whole time. And then he insulted my cooking! The nerve! My chicken soup is as good as anyone else's!" He was so wrapped in his insults, that he almost didn't notice the tree. When he did, however he braked. Hard. Gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, he scowled. If looks could kill, that tree would've been dead in minutes. "...I should just tear that stupid thing down. It's like it's mocking me." If he hadn't stopped, he most likely would've missed the boy underneath it. But he had stopped. And so his eyes fell onto the person underneath the branches. "What the…?" Squinting, he can make out the legs of a person. "As much as I don't want to.." The man turned off his car and climbed out, making his way through the tall gold grass and over to the boy. Looking around the tree, his eyes widen. The sleeping boy has bright golden hair, with a strange bit of it sticking up. His glasses have slipped off his nose and are crooked on his face and he's snoring softly.

"..._Alfred?_" At the sound of his name, the boy's eyes blink open, revealing bright blue oceans. The bleary-eyed boy focuses on the man standing over him, and a wide smile lights up his face, revealing pearly-white teeth.

"Arthur!" The startled British man has no time to react as the American promptly glomps him. "Hey man, what're you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question. Now get off me, you git!" He complains, struggling free of Alfred's grasp.

"Awwww," he pouts. "Don't be like that, Artie!"

"I told you not to call me that! Now what are you doing out here?"

"I asked you first."

"I- fine. I was visiting my brother yesterday and today. He broke his leg and I was taking care of him. I was returning home when I saw you. Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere? And without a car?"

"Oh that. Well, I had… A dream last night. And I woke up around 4 in the morning. Couldn't fall back asleep, and I didn't feel like taking the car. In hindsight, it would've been better if I did."

"You think? How long have you been out here?"

"Huh?" He looks around, finally noticing the gray storm clouds and midday glow. "Wait, what time is it? And is it raining?"

"It's 1 in the afternoon. And yes, it is. How you haven't noticed until now is beyond me. And you look like shit." Arthur adds, noticing Alfred's abnormally pale complexion and large circles under his eyes. His hair is disheveled and his clothes are muddy from sleeping on the ground.

"Gee, how nice. You always know just what to say, Artie."

"Don't call me that." He sighs. "You want to tell me about the dream?" Alfred shakes his head. "Was it a nightmare?" After a moment, he nods. Arthur glances at him and sees, to his dismay, that the perky college student has a look of pure anguish on his face. _A boy shouldn't look like that, _he thinks. After a second, he plops down next to Alfred, much to the other's surprise.

"What're you-"

"Just go back to sleep, you git. I'll wait until you wake up and drive you back to town." Alfred's eyes widen.

"Really?"

"That's what I said! Does your hearing not work or some-" He breaks off, turning bright red as Alfred leans against him.

"Thanks, Arthur."

"Sh-shut up. Wanker." Chuckling softly, Alfred closes his eyes, feeling at peace for the first time in days. Quickly, he falls into a peaceful sleep, free of dreams of rain, blood and sorrow.

Sighing, Arthur stares out into the distance, watching the ocean move. The rain continues to fall, creating a soft tinkling of music. The tall golden grass sways back and forth, and the scent of the rain and plants and nature is wonderful. Fresh and new. Safe from getting wet below the tree's branches, Arthur can't help but feel a sense of security.

"To think I hated this place. It's so quiet and serene. Maybe... maybe it's time to move on." He smiles, as he rarely does, and soon he's closed his eyes as well, falling asleep next to Alfred.

And the rain continues to fall, peacefully lulling the two boy's into peaceful dreams. And the wind blows and the leaves rustle and the waves crash. And right now, nothing could be more perfect.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Chapter 3! Yay! Okay, so for the French, 'mon ami' is 'my friend' and 'oui' is yes. Now on to to the facts. And Francis appeared! Don't worry, he'll come up more in the story. *:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:* **

**For college dorms, I researched the colleges they have in Italy. I used most of my references from the university of Bologna, one of the oldest school's in Italy. They have individual kitchens in the dorm rooms there, so that's why Alfred and Antonio have one. (＾▽＾) If only American colleges had them… (´；ω；`)**

**Sambuco is a native berry to Italy. It was something I hadn't heard of, so it worked well in the story. And I didn't mention the girl's name because she's not going to be a recurring character. She was only there to emphasize Alfred's personality. He's supposed to be handsome, funny and charming, so that's why she's there. And sorry about the stereotypical Irish girl appearance. (*´･人･*)Sorry｡｡**

**And I couldn't help but make a dig at the economy, although it's directed towards the USA's debt and prices, of course. Not Italy.**

**Saccharine means overly sweet. I use big words.（〜^∇^)〜**

**Quinces are somewhat like a mix of pears and apples. You can't really eat them because they're sour when raw. Most producers 'blet' them. They pick the fruit, and spread on straw, for example, in a cool place and allowed to ripen for several weeks. Then they're sweet and yummy in jams and pudding! And you can use them for a variety of over things as well! They're pretty versatile.**

**Stella is geographically across from Naples. Naples is on the West side, while Stella is on the East side. That might help with some of the stuff then.**

**Now for the Spanish! 'No se puede simplemente tomar mis cosas! Malo! Malo Alfred!' means 'You can not just take my stuff! Wrong! Bad Alfred!' and 'Yo estaba pensando en ver a Lovino... Y las cosas 'fijación', por supuesto. Huhuhuhu' means 'I was thinking of seeing Lovino ... And 'fixing' things, of course. Huhuhuhu' Oh Antonio! We all know how you'd 'fix' things! (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ) 'Qué' means 'what'. I study Spanish in school, I've had 4 years of it, so I hope there's no mistakes. If there are, please tell me! ﾐ (*･ω･) Thanks! 彡**

**Yay! Kiku appeared! And in a Pikachu shirt, no less! If you didn't catch that reference, I'm disappointed. （；_・）**

**Yeah, I picked Bram for the Netherlands. I know I called him Lukas in one of my previous fics, but I didn't know that was Norway's fanon name. SO I picked this one. It's a popular name for boys in the Netherlands.**

**If you haven't realized yet, Alfred's nightmare is of something that really happened in the story. That's all I'll say for now! You'll find out more later. ;)**

**For the weather, I referenced the region of Apulla. It's the region Stella would be in, and the average low in November is around 48⁰, which can be kinda cold if it's also windy and you're only wearing a t-shirt.**

**Sean is supposed to be Ireland. Britain and Ireland have a bit of conflict with the whole 'Northern ireland belonging to Great Britain' and what-not. So they don't like each other that much.**

**And yes, Arthur has a past with that tree. Remember Alfred saw the tree in his dream… Connection? Maybe? Maybe not? （´∀`）ｂ**

**Alfred x Arthur fluff! (´▽`ʃƪ) Perf! So that was Chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoyed it! I did my best on it. And sorry for the long author's note. Most of them will probably like this. ┐(ﾟ～ﾟ)┌ So! See you next chapter!**

**Reviews are love :) & love is happiness! :D**


	4. To Be Kind

To Be Kind

"_-shut up! My cooking's fine!" _

_A voice resonates in Alfred's head, a familiar one._

"_You wish. It's terrible. Never let a Brit cook, oui?" This one is smooth, like velvet, a thick French accent masking the cocky words._

"_Like yours is any better, frog!"_

"_Actually, Francis' cooking is very good!" A voice that is not his own comes out of Alfred's mouth. It's cheerful and carefree, how he remembered he sounded when he was little. Being the perfect son, student, friend, and really, the perfect person in general, ruined that innocence quite early on. A hand smacks his head. "Ow! What was that for? What did I do?" He turns involuntarily to look at a strange blond man, tall and burly._

"_You shouldn't say things like that. Read the mood for once." Another voice, this one stern with an accent he couldn't quite place, speaks up. His words, although a bit harsh, sound with a gentle warmth beneath them, affection clear. "Look." The field of vision switches to show a very familiar person on the floor, a gloomy aura hanging over him as another man tries to comfort him, both with blond hair._

_Is that…?_

"_Ah, I'm sorry Arthur! You're food's very good! I never knew something could be as tasteless as what you make!"_

"_Shut up, bastardo, you're only making it worse!" This time he recognizes the speaker._

_That's Lovino Vargas! He's the mafia guy! But what are they all doing here? And who are they? I only recognize him and Arthur. _

"_Aw Lovi, don't call people bastards. It's not nice!" Slinging his arm around the Italian's shoulder is none other than Antonio. "You know he isn't very tactful?"_

"_That's no excuse! And get off me!" Shrugging him off, Lovino stalks away, clearly blushing, as Antonio follows close behind. Turning to Arthur, the burly blond man speaks again._

"_Why don't you leave the cooking to Francis today, Arthur? You can cook another time."_

"_Hmmph!" He says, clearly annoyed. "Fine! If you can't appreciate my food, there isn't any point in making it anyway!" Grabbing not-Alfred's wrist, he looks at him, before moving into the next room. "Come on! Let's go get Lovino off of Antonio before he kills him. He's a piece of work, right-"_

Alfred's eyes fly open, dark shadows meeting his gaze. His glasses have fallen off, resting on his chest and he's damp from the previous rain showers. It takes him a minute to realize what he just dreamed, but when he does-

"Damn! It was the same bunch of guys!" The ones from his dream were the same in the previous ones as well. "Although this time was a lot happier… So they all know each other? Then why were they shooting at friends…? And if I'm not me in the dreams, then who am I? And why am I seeing them? Agh, this is so frustrating!" Going to stand up, he stops when he realizes there's something on his left shoulder. Looking down at it, his cheeks flush bright red.

Arthur's head is resting on his shoulder, his mouth slightly open, light snoring echoing from his lips. It's the most at-peace Alfred has seen him. Reaching out a hand to shake him awake, he pulls back at the last second. Arthur is shivering slightly. "The cool ocean breeze and dampness of his clothes must be making him a bit cold..." Grumbling, Alfred settles back against the tree, resting an arm around Arthur and pulling him closer.

"Hypocrite," he mutters. "You have huge circles too. Looks like neither of us are getting enough sleep. And you should've worn a jacket." Sighing, he leans his head back, staring up at the sky. The rain has stopped, and the sky has darkened slightly, sunset drawing closer.

_So, _he thinks. _These dreams… When exactly did they start again? It was the night I saw the professor. Let's see, before that… Before that… I met Arthur. And he's in them too. So they have something to do with him. But he's just a bookstore owner, how could he-_

…

_"Yes, I own this store."_

_"Own all of this? Wow."_

_"It was my dad's before mine. It was closed for a few years, while I was... Exploring different occupations."_

_..._

_He's only had it for a little while then… Whatever happened, it was while he was doing his other job. But what was it? I can't just ask, it seemed like a touchy subject. And apparently, this all happened when I wasn't here. I don't know how long ago it was, but… I also don't know how to find out when it was. First I need to find out who I am, because I'm not me. Last week was the first time I met Arthur. And I don't recognize half of those men, including myself. But something big must have happened… And intense, if those guns mean anything. I need to figure this out._

…

"_What? Blame who for what? What happened?" Rome gave Alfred a small smile._

"_Don't, Alfred. I'm not getting a young man as bright as yourself caught up in this. This is a Vargas family problem. It's best I say no more."_

…

_A Vargas family problem, huh. So was the guy I am related to Lovino and the professor? Or is he just a friend? They seemed more like friends than siblings though. So all I know is that it was at least a few months ago, before the bookstore opened, it involved Arthur, Lovino, Antonio, that Francis guy and at least two others, there was violence, it was somehow related to the mafia… and it was traumatic enough to cause Arthur to quit his job. Professor… I know I promised to stay out of it… But I can't. I want to know what's going on. And to do that, _he thinks, looking back at Arthur. _I need to get closer to him. Which is good. I had already planned on it anyway._

Lost in thought, he almost falls back asleep, when one of the apples from the tree hits his leg, jolting him awake. "Ow! Shit!" He cursed, rubbing his leg with his free hand. Looking up, his eyes widen and the breath leaves his lips. A wide smile appears on his face, and he gets up, carefully laying Arthur back against the tree. After a few seconds, he removes his dark brown bomber jacket and places it over Arthur's still-sleeping form. Quietly moving away, he leaves the safety of the tree and ventures to the edge of the cliff, careful to avoid getting too close to the edge. Laughing, his face is illuminated by the beautiful sunset in front of him. The pure colors of the sky in front of him glow with a certain warmth from the golden sun, soft pinks, warm oranges, fiery reds, and sunny yellows line the sky in a symphony of bright colors, reflecting into the vast ocean and changing the normal bright blue into a more murky purplish-blue The sharp contrast of the cool colors of the water and the warmth of the colors in the sky creates a calming effect. High above, it turns a deep purple and eventually a dark black, but for now, the sky has never seemed more alive.

Arthur slowly blinks open his green eyes, a soft yawn escaping from his lips. Noticing Alfred no longer beside him, he starts, going to jump up, only for the jacket to fall from his body. Picking it up, he recognizes it. "This is Alfred's…" His face heats up as he realizes he must have covered him with it. Hesitating a moment, he shivers again, sneezing softly. Pulling the jacket on, heavily embarrassed, his eyes land on the very same man, standing a few hundred feet away. Moving to his side, Arthur glances at him, before moving his gaze to the sky.

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful sunset?" Alfred asks quietly, and Arthur smiles.

"They truly are spectacular here. In London we could almost never see the sky, let alone the sunset. It rained every day practically."

"I've seen sunsets before. I lived in Pennsylvania, in a tiny town that no one knows about aside from it's residents. It was far away from any big cities, so we got some pretty incredible sunsets. But this," he says, the cheer in his voice audible. "This is, well, extraordinary! It's like it was put here just for us, just so we could see it. A sky for just the two of us."

"That's just silly, Alfred. As if a sunset would occur for only two people." Arthur says, but he's smiling. "But it is beautiful."

"Yeah," he responds. "It really is." Unknown to Arthur, Alfred is no longer watching the sunset, but Arthur instead, and as he says these words, his smile only deepens. Finally glancing at him, Arthur blushes.

"W-what are you looking at?" He says finally, not knowing what else to say. Alfred gives him a funny look.

"You. What else?" As Arthur blushes redder, Alfred continues. "I was just thinking. The rainbow's complete now."

"Huh?"

"Well, it has red and orange and yellow and purple in the sky. And there's blue in the water. And now that you're here, there's green. Your eyes are the most intense shade of green I've ever seen, so it's perfect now!"

Arthur has turned completely, watching Alfred speak. A stunned expression is on his face as the wind gently blows their clothes and hair. Looking at him, Alfred gives him a toothy grin, and Arthur can't help but return it.

"You're wrong." Arthur adds.

"Huh? I am?"

"The ocean is pretty, but it's much more indigo, see? Because of the colors reflecting on it. It needed blue as well. So it's not just me who completes the rainbow, it's you as well. I'm not the only one with beautiful eyes. Your vivid blue eyes are needed as well."

"So we're between yellow and indigo then, right?"

"Between heaven and earth." Arthur murmurs.

"Don't forget beside each other! Blue and green! It's fate, Artie!" Alfred cries, throwing his arm around Arthur, who gets annoyed.

"Don't call me that! And it is not! We just met last week, git!"

"Aw but it feels like forever!"

"That's because you're young."

"Well so are you!"

"I'm older than you!"

"Only by a few years! C'mon Artie, don't get angry." He says, poking his cheek. Arthur, scowling, doesn't respond, opting to sit down instead. Thrown off balance, Alfred stumbled for a moment before falling on his butt on the ground. "Arthuuur! That hurt!" He wails as Arthur smiles smugly.

"Then maybe you won't call me 'Artie' anymore."

"Fat chance!" He replies, turning back to look at the sky. "Aw, the sunset's gone."

"They don't last forever. Nothing does." Alfred doesn't like the hint of sadness in his voice.

"Yeah, you're right. But when one thing ends, another begins."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Alfred begins, wondering how he should phrase this. "Think of the sky. The sunset, although short, is absolutely wonderful, a happy time. But when it disappears, does that mean you forget about it? I don't. Instead, I remember how pretty it was and smile. And I enjoy the nighttime that comes afterwards. At first glance, it's a dark, scary time, with strange noises and strange things and you can't really see. But slowly your eyes adjust, and you realize the noises and things aren't as scary as you thought. And the dark isn't quite so bad. And when you look up, at all the stars, all the glittering, shining dots that light up the sky, you realize you're not quite as alone as you thought. When one thing ends, another, just as beautiful and happy as the one before, begins. And slowly, your initial fears of it fade away and you can just enjoy the here and now. There's no point in getting hung up in the past, Arthur. I don't know what happened back then, but I can wait until you're ready to tell me. Until then, don't be so afraid. Don't isolate yourself like you've been doing. You're not as alone as you think. Because I'm here. And I'll stay with you. I want to. Enjoy your life now, okay? You never know when you won't get the chance anymore. As one stage of life ends, another begins. And this one has me in it, as well as others. You just haven't met them yet. So live in the here and now. Enjoy the present. Don't forget the past, but don't let it hold you back from accomplishing your dreams!" Alfred smiles as he replays what he just said in his head. _Not bad, not bad! Very profound. _As he congratulates himself mentally, he looks over at Arthur, who still hasn't responded and is shocked by what he sees.

Arthur is looking into the distance, fixing on nothing in particular, a far-away look in his eyes. Small teardrops trickle out of the emeralds and roll down his cheeks, pooling and dropping onto his knees below. A look of sorrow is on his face. Alfred, not intending for this to happen, starts to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Arthur! I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry! Was it when I said to move on? I wasn't trying to hurt you, was I too blunt? I was too blunt!"

"Alfred-"

"Or was it when I said I wanted to be your friend? If you don't want me to be, I won't! I can back off! Or is it because I'm saying all this when I have no idea what happened? Am I butting in where I shouldn't be? I am aren't I? Anyway, I'm really sorry-"

"ALFRED!"

"-so please don't cry!" He finishes, panting for breath. His voice had gotten higher and faster with each word, and he was left nearly breathless.

"Are you quite done?" Arthur asks quietly.

"...I think."

"Good." Arthur sighs. "Don't worry. It's not your fault. I was just thinking of the past. I didn't even realize I was crying until you said so." He rubs his cheeks, wiping the tears away as if nothing happened. "No, what you said was beautiful, Alfred. And you're exactly right. I think the main reason I wasn't moving on was because I needed someone to say this to me. And I'm glad it was you. I..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "I would be happy to be your… friend. I'm not used to having many friends thought. I might treat you badly. You're… interesting. In a good way." He adds, as he sees the distressed look on Alfred's face. "I can tell that being with you won't be boring. I suppose I have been dwelling in the past for too long. It's time I move forward. Although I'm not sure I'll be ready to tell you about my past anytime soon. But I'll get there little by little. If you want to wait that long…"

"Of course I will! Arthur, even if you never tell me, that's okay. The point is, you're not alone."

"...I suppose that will be nice." Alfred smiles at him before turning back to the sky.

"Y'know," he says. "I've always been fascinated by the stars. Ever since I was a kid. Every time my dad would take me and Mattie, oh, Mattie's my brother, every time he'd take us stargazing, I'd love every second of it. There was this one spot, on a hill, where I could just watch them for ages. For my tenth birthday I got a Orion telescope, one of those really expensive high-quality ones. There wasn't a single night where I didn't use it. When I was old enough, I'd bike out to the hill myself, and sometimes I spent the whole night there charting the stars. I did it every month. And yet when that same month rolled around again, it would be different. Countless stars burn out and are replaced every year, every week, every day. It's never the same twice, Sort of like snowflakes. And that fascinates me. I have over a hundred star maps back home in Pennsylvania. The stars are why I worked so hard in school. Why I'm at Galileo. The school is even named after an astronomer! It has an amazing space program. Here, I might actually reach my goal... I'd like to be an astronaut, see? Ever since I was 4, so 18 years. And now, enrolled in the program in my fourth year, I'm so close I can taste it. But people tell me it's a bad dream though. That it's not likely to happen."

"That's wrong!" Arthur cries, interrupting him. Alfred looks at him, and sees that his green eyes are wide and his face looks distressed.

"Huh?"

"That's wrong!" He repeats. "No one should ever tell you that your dreams are bad! It's not impossible, like you said, you're close to it! I know all too well how it feels to have people tell you you can't do it, but don't listen, okay Alfred? You can do it! I believe in you!" Alfred's surprised face must have caught Arthur off-guard, because he looks away, embarrassed. "Um, w-well, I-I…" His voice trails off as his face heats up further. Alfred's shock falls away and he grins.

"No I get what you mean! Thanks, Artie, it means a lot to me that you think I can do it. You're the first besides my dad to not doubt me. Don't be embarrassed. It made me feel better. If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be me." Arthur looks back at him in surprise as Alfred chuckles, scratching his head with a sheepish look on his face. "I got kinda carried away there, didn't I? Probably bored you. I get carried away when I start talking about it, sorry. I'll stop."

"No!" As Alfred looks at him, Arthur lowers his voice as he realizes he just yelled that. "You didn't bore me. I enjoyed listening to you. It's a wonderful dream, Alfred. It's not boring at all, and if people say it is, then you shouldn't be telling them in the first place!" Alfred is quiet for a moment before laughing.

"That's exactly what Tony said when I told him. You two are pretty similar."

"...Tony as in Antonio? Antonio Fernandez Carriedo?"

"Yeah. He's my roommate."

"...I see. Yes, that sounds like something he'd say."

"You know him?"

"W-well, kind of. He went to the same high school I did. I graduated when he became a sophomore. We were both in the student council."

"Really?"

"Of course! He was only a class representative, but I was student council president!"

"Hey, same here! I was all four years in high school. Well the last year was the most important of course. Senior class president's a big deal."

"I guess we're more alike than we thought." The two's eyes meet, and there's a brief silence before they both start laughing.

"Who'da thought?"

"Really, are you even human?" Arthur replies between chuckles. "You're English is terrible. 'Who'da' isn't even a word."

"Then why is it not red-lined when I type it on my computer?" Arthur's eyes widen.

"Oh please tell me you haven't wrote that on a college paper."

"Of course not! Mostly 'cuz I gotta write those in Italian for most of my professors. But in my rough drafts of the English ones, I do. I correct it when I turn them in."

"You're such an American." Arthur says, sighing.

"Hey! That's a good thing!"

"If you say so. As much as I'm enjoying talking to you, it's getting late. We should be heading back to the town soon." Arthur gets to his feet and starts walking back to the car. Alfred gets up to follow him.

"Yeah, I guess you're-" He breaks off as he realizes what Arthur said. "Wait, you were enjoying talking to me? For reals?" he grins as he sprints to catch up with the Englishman stalking ahead.

"Don't make me take that back. You're surprisingly intelligent. Moreso than I thought when I first met you. For an American, anyway."

"Stop insulting Americans!" Alfred complains as he gets into the car, Arthur walking around to the driver's side. As the car starts, the two continue to argue.

"Why should I? There's just so much to insult."

"Is not! You're just angry about the whole independence thing!"

"I am not! That was centuries ago! It isn't my fault you Americans go way overboard for 4th of July!"

"The only thing that went overboard is your tea!"

"W-Why you!" But Arthur can't really think of a comeback for that, so that's all he says. Feeling proud, Alfred laughs.

"I got you! No way to come back from that!"

"Oh shut up!" Arthur replies, annoyed.

The rest of the car ride back is spent in comfortable silence, both tired out from talking for so long earlier. As they roll down the quiet streets of the small town, the lanterns that illuminate the roads cast shadows around them, distorting the village.

"I've always loved these." Arthur says softly.

"The lanterns?"

"Yes. In the age of street-lights and industrial-sized-everything, we still have these. They may be electric, but it's still beautiful. Classic. I suppose I sound like an old man, but I prefer vintage things. They have an old charm to them and it's quite calming."

"I agree. I prefer them to those million-volt ones in Chicago or NYC, although it is kind of creepy." Arthur chuckles.

"The shadows can create an illusion of shapes, that's true. It's nice for Halloween."

"Dude I love Halloween! Free candy and the best parties ever! It's my favorite holiday!"

"Spoken like a child."

"Well fine then, what's yours?"

"Christmas."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's the one time of year where I can visit home again. A plane ticket is expensive, you know. I get to be with my family and friends back in London."

"Family reunion?"

"Yes."

"You _like _those?"

"...Yes."

"You took way too long to answer."

"Okay fine! I like it because of the food and the presents, okay?"

"Now who's the kid!"

"Still you! At least it's not my favorite holiday because of candy!"

"So it's the food, huh? Man, you'd like Christmas at my place then. My mom makes like 5 pies and a whole turkey and ham and there's ambrosia and potato casserole and gingerbread and it's delicious!"

"Ambrosia?"

"It's made of cool whip and canned pineapple, maraschino cherries and mandarin oranges! It's so goooood! It's awful for you though."

"That sounds good. Not as good as some fresh scones though."

"Scones? Ew."

"Hey! They are the peak of culinary perfection!"

"Not even close, man. I bet your scones are disgusting."

"They are delicious!"

"I doubt it."

"I'll show you! They're wonderful!"

"Great! So your place at 7 on… let's say Thursday?"

"...Did you just get me to ask you on a date?"

"Why yes. Yes. I. Did. Impressed?"

"..."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Is it like a-a date-date? The r-romantic kind?" Arthur stutters the last few words. Alfred gives him a funny look.

"What other kind is there? It doesn't have to be romantic, I guess. If you don't want it to be…"

"N-No! No it's fine!" Alfred laughs.

"I thought you'd say that. This can be a trial run, if that makes you less nervous."

"I-I've been on dates before!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Just not recently…" He mutters. Alfred laughs again.

"That's what I thought! I'll see you in a few days, then." He says as Arthur pulls up in front of the gates to the college grounds. Getting out of the car, he walks around, and is about to enter, when Arthur calls out.

"Wait!" He opens the door and steps out, handing Alfred his jacket. "Don't forget this. It's well-worn, you must like it."

"Ah, thanks! I love it! It's my great grandpa's, from World War II. He got it from a general in the army. It was a cool story, I'll tell you sometime."

"Right, then," Arthur responds, straightening up. "Good-bye Alfred." He sticks out his hand. Smirking, Alfred grabs his wrist and pulls. With a cry, Arthur stumbles into his arms and Alfred hugs him.

"Aw why so formal? I thought we were past that! Bye Artie! I liked talking with you!"

"G-get off me, you git!" But Alfred could hear the smile in his voice. "I enjoyed it too. Now get off!" Letting go, Alfred steps back as Arthur gets back into the car. Waving, he almost missed Arthur's last few words.

"Thank you, Alfred."

And with that said, Arthur's car sped off down the street in the opposite direction. As Alfred watches him drive away, he can't help but find himself looking forward to Thursday.

"Wonder what I should wear…" He mutters as he enters the gates, which slide closed behind him. "Oh well, it's in a few days. I should finish that book first. He'll be so impressed." As Alfred returned to his dorm room, he found he was happier than he had been in a long while.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Chapter 4! How'd you guys like it? There was a bunch of fluff cuz fluff is wonderful! Any new theories on Alfred's mysterious dreams? I'd love to hear them! The men are all Hetalians, none are OC's!**

**Hint: The events he's seeing really happened.**

**But that's the only hint you'll get from me! Agh, I was thinking I hadn't updated in like 10 days but it's been over 3 weeks! I'm sorry! So I sat down and spent 5 hours writing this! I hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**Alfred is only seeing things through this person's eyes, he's not in control of their body. If that makes sense. Thought I'd clear that up.**

**Referenced the third Hetalia episode! Germany's line "Friends. Thats sounds… nice. Since I've never had friends, I'll likely treat you badly but someone has to take it. This could work! Friends!" I couldn't resist, the urge was too great!**

**So for the 'who'da' ting, on Google Docs, where I write these, it didn't redline who'da. I was shocked.**

**Dorks! DOOOOORKS! Alfred and Arthur are soooooo cute! How can you not like this pairing? I'm careful with my writing, but every time I proofread them, I can imagine saying and doing all this. It might just be me, but still. Oh Alfie, you so smooth! Asking Artie out when he doesn't even realize what he's saying. Wish I could get a guy that easily. Oh well.**

**I haven't decided whether or not Chapter 5 will be their date of filler between that. i feel the need to deepen the Alfred-Lovino relations. So maybe they'll encounter each other…? Truth be told, I had another way for Lovino to meet Alfred but I opted for the store one in Chapter 2, so maybe I'll use that…**

**Is there any characters you guys want to see? If there are just ask and I'll try to include them!**

**Anyway, I hope you guys liked Chapter 4! I worked hard on it, so if you're gonna review, no hate! Constructive criticism is welcomed! Comments on th fluff is encouraged! Theories, characters and requests are wonderful! Even something saying 'good job' makes my day! So please review, follow and favorite!**

**Reviews are love :) & love is happiness :D**


	5. To Remember

**LOTS OF FLASHBACKS. Just saying.**

* * *

To Remember

Although Alfred had been walking on clouds only a moment ago, after entering the school grounds, he realized just how exhausted he really was. He had slept for hours, that's true, but it was under a tree during a rain storm, miles from society. And he had walked there. The entire 5 miles. His feet were killing him, and his back was stiff and felt like it had a million knots in it. Sighing, he rubbed it and groaned as he continued back. Walking down the now-empty quad, he sighed, recalling his efforts to get Arthur to open up.

"It was worth it." he muttered to himself. "I got to see Arthur again and-" He breaks off as his mind replays what he had said earlier.

"_Great! So your place at 7 on… let's say Thursday?"_

"_...Did you just get me to ask you on a date?"_

"_Why yes. Yes. I. Did. Impressed?"_

Blue eyes widening, his face quickly turns from a cool cream to a burning red. You can practically see all the steam pouring out of his ears. The last time Alfred had been _really _embarrassed was at the high school talent show during his freshman year.

...

_Alfred swallowed hard. As he walked onto the stage, his eyes met the rows of faces, all watching him expectantly. They expected greatness, because that's what Alfred F Jones was known for. He led the football team to a victory on the national level as just a freshman. He won Homecoming King by winning the hearts of everyone by the end of September, just 2 months. He was in all honors programs and achieved the highest scores. On the practice SAT he scored a 32. Without even preparing for it. Considering the circumstances, the entire town had celebrated having a 'prodigy' living with them. Oh yeah, he had been embarrassed then too. Like he thought, they expected greatness. Gulping nervously, he made his way to center stage, his brother following, they opened their guitar cases, picked up the instruments, played a few notes- and then Alfred promptly forgot all the words and notes._

_This was a very big issue, especially considering Matthew was only singing backup._

_Murmurs echoed through the crowd as he stood there, not knowing what to do, desperately praying for the words to come back. But they didn't. Coughing slightly, he brought everyone's attention from whispering about what was happening to back to him. Sighing softly enough so they wouldn't hear through the mic, he began to play and sing the only song he truly remembered, the one his dad used to teach he and his brother how to play._

"_Got an AK-47, well you know it makes me feel alright! Got an Uzi by my pillow, helps me sleep a little better at night!" Matthew stared at him in complete shock. It was all Alfred could do to keep from laughing as he saw the shocked faces of the crowd as he played and sang along to Trigger Happy by Weird Al Yankovic._

"_Well, you can't take my guns away, I got a constitutional right! Yeah I gotta be ready if the Commies attack us tonight!" At that, some of the parents winced, and the teachers stood from their seats, in obvious rage, just about ready to drag him off the stage. Pausing for a moment, he smiles as his friends stand up and start chanting_

"_Let him sing! Let him sing!" Quickly the auditorium fills with his peers cries, chanting for him. Unknown to Alfred, Matthew chuckled, before beginning the song again. Turning, Alfred's blue eyes met Matthew's, and they shared a wide grin, before Alfred followed his brother's lead, continuing the song, both playing and singing their hearts out._

"_Oh yeah, I'm trigger, trigger happy! Yes, I'm trigger, trigger happy! " Eventually the protests from offended teaches and parents died down, some simply leaving the auditorium. The students, however, flooded onto the stage, led by Alfred's friend's, Feliks and Mathias. And the talent show dissolved into more of a dance party than a talent show, and when the song ended, everyone who stayed wanted an encore._

_Which never came because the principal shut down the sound system._

_..._

After that, Alfred and Matthew had been scolded harshly afterwards, but they got away with it. After all, who could suspend the school's star quarterback and 'prodigy'? Certainly not the principal. That talent show had been embarrassing, but turned out good. But those nerves couldn't compare to how he felt now. For the first time in his life, Alfred was nervous. Not fidgety-hope-i-do-okay nervous. This was different. This was the butterflies-in-the-stomach-slightly-gassy-nerves-of-jello kind. And he had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. No girl made him like this, no game made him like this, no test, no person, no thing. Never. Until now.

And his date was still 5 days away.

"Why now?" He groans. "As if I wasn't sore enough…"

"Alfred!" His head perks up at the sound of his voice. Running over to him is Antonio, Kiku, and Kiku's roommate, Heracles. Antonio's distinct Spanish accent thickens his words, and since he's breathing hard, it sounds more seductive than worried, which is what he intends. Probably. Alfred actually isn't quite sure. "Al!" He says again, closer this time. Leaning over to catch his breath, he stands back up. Alfred recognizes the look in his eyes and sighs, preparing himself for a lecture. "What the hell were you thinking, asshole?! I can understand skipping yesterday, there was that fight the day before. And the professor knew about it. But today too?! I had to make up some dumbass excuse for you to ditch! And you don't even tell me, you just disappear?! Without the car?! _Alone_?! Dios, do you have any idea how worried I was?!"

"Eh? You were worried? Why?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You're my friend!"

...

"_Why wouldn't I be?" Matthew had responded quietly._

_That day, instead of going to his same boring high school, Alfred had chosen to travel down to the city. He hadn't quite known why, but he just wanted to. So he began the long 80-mile drive to Harrisburg. It had taken about an hour and a half, and he had borrowed Matthew's car without permission. His brother had worked hard and paid for half of it himself, with their parent's paying the last part. He had said Al was free to use it, but he had never done this before. He hoped his brother wouldn't be angry. It was early in the morning when he had left, and no one was awake yet._

_Upon entering the city, he did the natural thing. Parked the car somewhere and promptly forgot where he left it. He had parked and got out, and began wandering the streets. His height and size worked to his advantage, and he was glad he had chosen to wear a more classy outfit than jeans and a ratty t-shirt. No police approached him about being a student. Walking, he eventually turned onto a street he didn't know. It was on this street that he met her. A woman, walking with a group of others. She was the only one without a guy escorting her, and she looked a bit out of place. Feeling bad, Alfred had approached. Upon further inspection, she was quite pretty, with long dark brown hair and smooth creamy skin. Her doe eyes were big and green and Alfred hadn't seen a shade of green that was prettier. She was nervous at first, but through some pressuring from her friends, he eventually joined the group._

"_I'm sorry about that!" she had said. "My name is "_

_Alfred hadn't bothered to remember it. It hadn't been important._

"_It's no problem!" he replied, laughing. "So where are we headed?"_

"_Have you ever heard of Cherry Town?"_

"_Should I have?"_

"_Haha, probably not. It's our favorite club. A real party. And they make the best dry martinis!" At this, Alfred knew he should turn around. He should walk away. He was underage and he could get in a lot of trouble for this. But instead, he just smiled._

"_Sounds like a blast! Unfortunately, I was going to walk to work today, so I don't have any identification with me." His mind formed the lie quite easily and he was a bit surprised._

"_That's not a problem, Buffy knows us."_

"_Buffy?" Turns out that Buffy was the bouncer for that particular club. He let the group in without so much as a nod, and Alfred found himself enthralled. The lights, the sounds, the dancing, the smells, the people. Everything about it was so strange, and yet so… right. As if they didn't have a care in the world. _

_Even though it was midday, Cherry Town was full. The dance floor was alive with bodies, packed so tightly together. Alfred chuckled, imagining what would happen if someone tripped. A domino effect he supposed. The lights above were dim and strobing, neon green, hot pink, cyan blue, bright yellow, illuminating the people faintly. The bar was just as full, with drunkards and haughty people alike. The music was blaring some kind of techno remix that had a good beat, and the dance floor seemed to move as one. Some people were with their noses turned away from the noise, as if they'd be infected by the 'commonfolk', some were hopelessly passed out, some were dancing, some were, um, doing something else, some were chatting at the tables, a few whoops were heard in the back, chuckles came from the bar, along with a bartender's tired smile as he listened to the drunken stories. But somehow they all fit. Short, tall, young, old, dark, light, everyone just enjoying the music and the little haven inside the bustling city._

_He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the woman he met. "First time in a bar?"_

"_One like this, yes."_

"_Oh, so you're into the more hoity-toity ones, huh? Well, let's change that. Come on, let's dance!" Dragging him onto the dancefloor, the two quickly melded into the throng. Alfred couldn't tell where he was moving, who he was touching, whom he ran into, what the song was, and for once, he felt like he might not care. And so he danced, moving his hips to the beat and swaying his body, holding the girl close to him. Eventually, her friends grabbed and dragged them both to a large table by the bar. Sitting down, they began to talk and laugh. And as Alfred watched and listened, declining drinks and drugs alike, he realized why everyone fit. Why they all melded together. And why he felt so out of place._

_These people had already given up._

_And that scared him._

_So he left quickly, apologizing, "Look at the time! I'm sorry, I really need to go, I have… an appointment." He ignored the girl's cries for him to wait and come back._

"_At least tell me your name!"_

_He hadn't. It wasn't important. Because he knew he would never see her again. And he was back on the street. The city seemed different now. Not quite as innocent as it was when he first arrived. It had an air of… of… of something he couldn't quite place. But it wasn't the wondrous big city he had visited when he was younger, nor was it an opportunity like he had thought. He had met it's residents, and, as he finally found Matthew's car, the one thing he knew for certain was that he never wanted to become one of them._

"_They already gave up on their dreams." he had muttered on the trip home. "They were there to try and forget that which they failed to achieve. Drowning out the cries with things like beer and drugs, with words like 'I'm happy as it is.' and 'What's the point of changing if it's working?'. How can they live like that?" Maybe it was his naivety that made him think these things. Maybe it was his innocence that caused him to believe that it was possible for him to be more. Or maybe it was his brilliance. "Only so many people can stand in the light, I guess…" And he didn't say another word all the way home._

_His friends saw him first. They swarmed the car, asking where he had been and what he had been doing. When he told them, they were all thoroughly impressed._

"_That's so cool!"_

"_You're so grown up!"_

"_Wish I could do that!"_

_Not a single one seemed worried at all._

_It was the same with his parents. They were furious. They could tell by the smell of him where he had been, and though he assured them he hadn't eaten or drank anything, they still sent him straight to bed, telling him he had better go right to bed and plan on going to school tomorrow. In hindsight, he could tell they knew what had happened. In a way, that visit to to the city was what made him take those last steps to growing up._

_Matthew had crept up to him room later, letting himself in. _"_Alfred, how could you do that?" He had asked quietly. Alfred just rolled over on his bed with his back facing Matthew. Sighing, his brother continued. "First off, I'd appreciate it if you'd at least tell me that you're going into the city for no reason. I had to go to all of your teachers and tell them you were sick so you wouldn't get in trouble. I got your homework and assignments too." No response. He continued. "Also, just... just don't do that." Alfred kept waiting for him to finish, but he didn't. Hmmphing, Alfred let out in a small voice_

"_Why not?" Matthew laughed._

"_Because, stupid! It's dangerous! You could get hurt or something! I was really worried about you!" Alfred stiffened._

"_...really?"_

"_Why wouldn't I be?" Those words sank in, and finally, the fear that had been in him, the one that he might end up a shell, like all those people, that he might lose himself, welled up and overflowed. Sitting up, the blankets still wrapped around him, his eyes met Matthew's. His brother simply smiled, sat down on the bed and held his older brother as he cried._

…

"Al? Hello? Earth to Al? Anyone in there?" Jumping a little, his gaze turned back on his friends.

"Sorry, sorry! ...Friends, huh?" Antonio gave him a funny look.

"Yeah, friends. What's with you, you're weird lately?"

"It's all that Arthur's fault!" He exclaims suddenly. "Stupid book guy! Making me feel all sentimental and nervous and- and-" He can't finish and instead breaks off blushing. Noticing this, Antonio's eyes widen, before narrowing into a knowing smirk. Smiling, he turns to Kiku and Heracles.

"Gracias, you two! You helped me look for him!"

"I-it was nothing really!" Kiku replied, while Heracles just nodded, halfway through a massive yawn. "I guess we'll be heading back then. Oyasuminasai!" Turning, he follows Heracles, who just waves.

"Night! That Heracles dude doesn't talk much does he?"

"He's always been like that. More importantly," Antonio grins as the two start the walk back to their own dorm building. "You have your sights set on ol' Artie, huh?"

"Don't call him that!" Alfred snaps, whipping his head around to look at Antonio, who looks surprised. Waving his hands in front of him, Antonio replies

"Sorry!"

"Only I can call him that…" Alfred mutters, looking away and turning bright red. Antonio whistles.

"Amigo, you got it ba-ad!"

"I-I do not! We're just friends! Just friends…"

"You sound more like you're reassuring yourself of that than informing me."

"Wh-whatever! Do you wanna know where I was or not?" Sighing softly, Antonio shakes his head, just slightly enough that Alfred doesn't notice.

"Sure, dude. Go ahead and tell me."

Alfred proceeds to explain the entirety of the events that happened earlier. "-and then he started telling me that my dream wasn't stupid. It was exactly like the stuff you said when I told you! And then-" Alfred was unaware that Antonio was staring at him the whole time he talked, studying his face. When he finally finished, he looked over at him and smiled. "It was awesome! I had the best day!" And Antonio couldn't say anything back. As Alfred continued walking, Antonio stopped in his tracks, watching the blond boy. Glancing behind him, Alfred called back to him. "Hey, dude, come on!"

"Ah, r-right!" He didn't say another word until they entered their room.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted!" Yanking off his tennis shoes and jeans, he jumped into his bed. "I'm going to sleep dude!"

"Okay, I'm gonna shower first."

"Mmm, you do that." As Antonio entered the bathroom, right before he closed the door fully, Alfred's voice trickled in through the crack. "Ah man… How am I supposed to sleep with my heart beating this fast? And why is it? Hope it's not heart disease or something." Closing the door and turning the water on so he can't be heard, Antonio bursts into laughter.

"How can a guy that smart be that clueless?"

…

After the shower, Antonio felt refreshed. "Ah, I'm about ready for bed too.' Instead of walking into the bedroom, he instead makes his way into the kitchen, softly closing the door to the shared bedroom. Sitting in one of the chairs, he pulls out his cellphone. "I need to do this first. Alfred said something about Arthur. If it's really _that_ Arthur…" he doesn't finish his sentence, instead dialing a familiar number and letting it ring. On the third ring, the person picks up.

"Hello? Lovino?"

"What is it, bastard?"

"Can you come over?"

…

Alfred wasn't sure when, but he had fallen asleep at some point. The faint scent of Antonio's strange rose shampoo had faded from the air, and the steam had long since dissipated. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was around 1 in the morning. Rolling over, he nuzzled into his pillow, welcoming the following warmth. However, two voices interrupted his much-needed sleep. Groaning, he, flops off the bed and walks over to the door, about to open it when

"-know that, but Al doesn't!"

"It's not my problem!"

"I'm asking you to make it your problem!"

_Those voice… _Alfred thinks, slightly cracking the door to look out. His eyes widen as he sees Antonio talking with a familiar face. "That's Lovino!" He gasps under his breath. "What is he doing here…?" Deciding to remain hidden, Alfred listens to the conversation through the door.

"-said no! It's too much trouble! I have my hands full as it is, the Adnans are being their normal bastard selves, and the Beilschmidts are seeking vengeance, as expected, and now Zwingli doesn't want to sell me ammunition because of my stupid men and that stupid fight!"

"Wow, you're busy, Lovi!"

"Well it's not like the mafia runs it's fucking self! Goddamn rival clans… We're obviously the strongest so they should just get the fuck out of the competition!"

"Lovi, all I'm asking is you keep your eye on the Beilschmidts!"

"I'm already watching them, bastard! You think I want to let something happen again?! Damn that Ludwig… I knew he was bad news!" Lovino roars as Antonio desperately tries to calm him down.

"Q-quiet Lovi! You'll wake Alfred!" Lovino's cold gaze turns to the door, and Alfred flies back, hoping and praying they didn't see him. The conversation finally continues.

"Why don't you just tell him?!"

"You know why! I don't want another… incident." The two look away from each other, and the pain on their faces is incredibly obvious. "And it's not Ludwig's fault. He was defecting. They both were, you know that, Lovi. They were ending it."

"Well they should have fucking ended it sooner! ...It was his fault. It has to be. Or else that means it's mine. And I can't have that, you _know_ I can't."

"I know." Antonio replied quietly. Lovino studies his face for a long time, before sighing deeply. "Y'know," he says softly. "I've never seen Al smile brighter than he did when he was talking about Arthur." Alfred self-consciously blushes.

"...Was I that bad?" He muttered to himself, but is interrupted when Lovino speaks up.

"...Fine, Antonio. I'll watch them closer, alright? But if this Alfred guy is serious about Arthur, then I can't guarantee anything… permanent."

"You don't have to! Gracias, thank you, Lovi!"

"If he knows the risks, then fine. I'm going now." Lovino gets up and walks to the door, before turning and adding. "And don't ever call me in the middle of the fucking night again, bastard! I'll rip you to pieces!" Antonio chuckles, moving over to him.

"Alright. Thank you, Lovi." Leaning down, the two share a long kiss. Thinking he sees a bit of tongue, Alfred moves away from the door, blushing. Returning to the bed, he sits down with a sigh.

"Wish I could have a relationship like that…"

…

"_Do you even want to be with me?!" Alfred sighed. It was happening again. What was this, eight? Nine? Or more than that? He couldn't tell anymore. They all blurred together. He remembered what had happened two months ago._

"_I like you! I always have! S-so, Alfred, w-would you please go to Turnabout with me? Please?"_

_Alfred stared down at the blushing girl in front of him. Turnabout was still a month away, and she was already asking him. She was cute enough. Her eyes were green, a brighter shade than the girl from the bar's. It was a very pretty color. Her hair was short and curly, a lighter chestnut color. Dyed. The strands binding into larger rolled curls. Clearly curled with an iron. She was petite, probably 5'4" at most, her skin was tanned. Artificial. Her lashes were thick and dark, her cheeks flushed, not a single blemish on her perfect face. Fake. Everything about her was fake. Just like the rest. For once he'd like someone to ask him out that wasn't a girl like this. But he did what he always did. Eyebrows go up. Feign surprise. Stutter a bit. Blushingly say yes. Thank her. Act happy. And smile._

_And there goes her smile. So wide and happy. She runs off to titter with her friends, as Alfred's surround him again, elbowing him about how cute she was. How lucky he is. And he smiles and agrees and laughs. But it's not real._

"_Alfred?!" His attention flickered back to the girl. "At least," she says, sniffing. "Give me a reason."_

"_It's not you, really! It's me. I'm just not ready for a serious relationship yet. I don't deserve a girl as wonderful as you. I really am sorry. I enjoyed spending time with you, but I can't like you like that. You deserve someone who can love you back, and I'm afraid I'm not him." And she accepted that, and he held her while she cried, and when she was done, she sniffed, said she'd wait for him and they parted as friends. Like all the ones before and all the ones after._

"_That's the eleventh one, Alfred. You're only a junior."_

"_So it's eleven? Looks like I was wrong."_

"_Alfred, at least try to care!"_

"_Are you saying I need a front around you too, Matthew?"_

"_That's not it, and you know it. Why do you do this? I want a reason."_

"_They all do."_

"_But they're random girls. And I'm your brother. Don't I deserve it?" Alfred sighed._

"_It's not that I'm trying to be mean." he begins. "I really don't want to hurt them. I don't like seeing them cry when it all ends. And it's not like I don't try. But I can only keep up a charade for so long. I don't like them like they like me. And… they're just so… fake. It's like they're hiding who they really are. And in that way they all blur together. No one stands out. I don't know why they try so hard, I'm sure they'd be beautiful with being themselves. But I can already tell that they aren't going to change. So they're too similar. No one's themself around me. People try so hard around me to be perfect, when I'm not even close to perfection. I don't get it."_

"_You're pretty dense, Al."_

"_Am not!"_

"_Yes. Yes you are. But that's not the point. They try to make themselves look good because that's what they think they have to do to be good enough for you. Al, you're pretty damn close to perfect. As close as a human can get anyway. At least that's how you seem to other people. I personally know all your bad habits, and trust me, there's more than all the girls you've dated combined!"_

"_Unnecessary!" Alfred replies, throwing his pillow at Matthew. His brother laughed._

"_Don't worry, Al. You'll find someone one day, I'm sure of it. And they won't try to be anything they're not around you. And I think that's how you'll know. Also, keep an out for green eyes."_

"_Why's that?"_

"_Nine__ of the eleven girls you've dated have green eyes. I think it's your lucky color."_

…

"Looks like Mattie might've been right about that… I don't think there's anyone with eyes as green as Arthur's. I wonder if he's right though. Artie doesn't seem to be pretending around me, but… But I really don't know anything about him. And if Antonio and Lovino were talking about him, then there's more to him than meets the eye. And what's that 'incident'? And the Beilschmidts? Isn't that Gil's last name? What does he have to do with this? And who are the Adnans? What ...risks? What's going on?" His voice trails off, thinking hard. Furrowing his brow, he flops back onto his bed with a loud groan only a few minutes later. "God, this just gets more confusing…"

"What does?" The voice startles Alfred and he nearly jumps ten feet in the air. His head whips around to see Antonio staring at him with those curious dark green eyes of his.

"...Damnit Tony, don't do that. You scared me."

"Someone's jumpy. You were too deep in thought to notice me come in. So what's so confusing?"

"Uh-um, th-the…" he searches the room frantically until one of his dinosaur posters gives him an idea. "The Barney show!"

"...what."

"Y-yeah! Why is it about a purple dinosaur? Why not a blue dinosaur or a pink one? And is it a T-rex, why not a-a stegosaurus or something? That's dinoism! And why are they people dressed in costumes, why not animation like all the good kids shows these days? And why do they sing? They're dinosaurs, they should be eating those kids instead of playing and dancing and singing with them!"

"...First off, dinoism? _Really_?"

"Dinoism, y'know, prejudice. Against dinosaurs." Antonio stares at him for the longest time before sighing and shaking his head.

"Okay. Moving on. Second, that would be mentally scarring, if kids saw people getting eaten. Remember Jurassic Park?"

"Great movie."

"You cried like a baby."

'It was scary!"

"No. No it's not. But fine. I'm going to sleep." Antonio flips off the light switch, and Alfred can hear him climbing into his separate bed. "...You don't have to tell me what you were thinking about if you don't want to. But it's better to talk about stuff than leave it locked away, Al. Don't carry too much on your shoulders alone, okay? You've got friends, we're here for you, amigo. When you want to talk that's fine." After a long silence, Alfred finally asks.

"...What were you talking to Lovino about?" An even longer silence, until finally Antonio replies, rather stiffly.

"Nothing important. Just… where our next date will be. He wants to see a movie and I want to go to a restaurant."

"Why not both?"

"That's what we decided. Good night, Al."

"...night." Alfred lays motionless in his bed, listening to the sounds of the creaking building. The crickets and cicadas chirp from outside the window, one of the final nights of autumn. The wind whistles, signalling the coming of winter. Hearing soft snoring coming from his friend's bed, he sighs and flips onto his back, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair.

"...how am I supposed to talk to you, Tony.… when you won't tell me anything?"

Closing his eyes, he lays still, waiting for sleep to come. Through all his efforts, he finally manages to push his questions far enough away to drift off. However they linger in the back of his head, waiting for a chance to overtake him, and as he falls asleep, he knows it will be a restless one. Remembering the peace of mind he felt earlier, he lets out a small sigh.

"I miss you… Arthur…"

* * *

**A/N: Hello! How are all of you lovelies? Good? Great! So am I! Like I promised, quicker update now! This one was a week and half! I tried!**

**Okay, Trigger Happy is a great song, and you should all listen to it. Don't worry, I still believe in gun control. It's just a fun song. (●´∀｀●） **

**For those of you wondering, the day I described this chapter and the last was Saturday. Typically you get weekends off in college, but the astronomy class is every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Since it's a long course, they have extra days to cover everything.**

**Yeah the girls names aren't important. You don't need to know them for the story to move on. It's actually better that they don't have any. ┐(´-｀)┌**

**Oyasuminasai means good night.**

**So! Did you all like Chapter 5? Lots of flashbacks, I know, but they were necessary for character-building. I didn't bore you guys did I?**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is much appreciated! Please review!**

**Reviews are love :) & love is happiness :D**


	6. To Get Well Soon

**A/N: Yeah, so this chapter is one of the reasons the rating is M. Excessive language and some, um, gore. Not for the faint of heart, unless you skip the dead-body part. Um, I'm not sure if I should say enjoy or not... Oh well, have fun reading :D**

* * *

To Get Well Soon

The next few days flew by quickly. Alfred had had to apologize profusely to his professors for skipping yet another day.

...

"I'm really sorry, Prof!"

"Alfred! I told you one day! You had one day! Why did you ditch a second one? We had an exam! Now you have to retake it! Ditching is not a good habit to fall into!"

"B-but I thought Tony-"

"Do you really think I don't know the difference between truth and lies?"

"...no." His professor had watched him for a long time, before sighing. Pinching his nose, he slowly shook his head.

"What day do you want to retake it? I'll give you full-credit."

"What?! Really?! Thanks so much!"

"It's only this once, Alfred! And only because you're one of my best students! Don't you dare skip my class again!"

"Yessir!"

…

The rest of his teachers had fallen for Antonio's lies surprisingly. I guess saying he had a horrible rash from a shady plant that was potentially contagious scared them enough to agree.

School had gone fine, of course. He quickly made up all the work he had missed, and continued to do his best in his classes. However, his test scores weren't quite as high as they normally were.

"Whoa, only a 93? What happened, Al?" Antonio had asked jokingly one day.

"You got only a 93, Alfred-san?" Kiku chimed in. "You typically compete with me for test grades but this time you're 5 points below me. Were you sick?"

"Yeah, lovesick!" Antonio loudly crowed, alerting the rest of the class. Needless to say, Alfred had blushed at this.

"I-I am not!"

"The first stage of love is denial."

"Aw now you're ganging up on me too, Toris? And I am not "in love", he's just a friend!"

"Ooooh friendzoned!"

"Someone better tell Arthur!"

"Don't you tell him anything!"

"So it's not a friendzone?"

"L-look, I don't even know him that well! I met him a little less than 2 weeks ago!"

"Love at first sight!"

"Haven't you seen Disney movies?"

"You'd think an American would."

"Will you guys please shut up!"

After that, Alfred took careful caution in taking his tests after that. He wondered if it really was because of Arthur that he didn't do as well. He had still gotten second in the class though.

Wednesday night, he was so excited for the next day, he almost couldn't fall asleep. He had tossed and turned for over an hour before finally falling asleep. He felt positive giddy. Unknown to him, that feeling was not to last long.

...

Alfred's eyes opened almost as quickly as they closed. For a moment, he thought he was in his own room, considering the darkness. However he soon realized that he was not. Most likely when the thunder sounded above him. Jumping a bit, he looked up to see the night sky darkened with rainclouds, and he finally notices the water dripping onto his clothes.

"So I'm dreaming again, huh? Great. Let's see what weird vision I have _this _time! What's it gonna be? Another group date thing? Violence again? Ooh, maybe mafia shit? Who fucking knows!" Scowling, he starts walking into the storm, angry that he can't just sleep soundly for once. With absolutely no idea where he's going, he marches into the growing thunderstorm. "What perfect weather for this." He mutters. Perking his head up, he notices voices coming from his right. He turns, following the voices and as he grows closer, he realizes. "I'm not gonna like what I see, am I…" But he doesn't stop, knowing that if he stops, he might be dismissing a clue as to what's going on in these dreams. The voices grow louder and he begins to recognize them.

"Dammnit! How could I let this happen?!"

"It's not your fault, fratello." _Fratello?_ Alfred thinks. _That means brother right? The first man is definitely Lovino. I recognize that angry tone. But he has a brother…? Since when? And what happened? What's not Lovino's fault? _He notices the quaver in both of their voices and his eyes narrow. _So it's not anything good…_

"If it's not mine, then whose is it?! Because it's someone's! So why don't you tell me, Feliciano?! Who the fuck am I supposed to blame then?! Who am I supposed to hate?!"

"W-well you shouldn't _hate _anyone. Hating is bad."

"So I'm just supposed to smile and laugh this off?! Not everyone can be like you! You're so damn carefree all the time! You don't realize what this means!"

"Wh-what it means? It has a meaning, besides… besides, well, y'know... war?"

"No shit! It means that no matter how hard I try to keep you safe, Feli, safe from all the horrors that go with running the fucking mafia, I'm going to fail! Because I clearly failed this time!"

Alfred has reached where the two men are, and he can vaguely make out two figures, standing next to two trees. It took him a while to realize, but…

"It's the same place I was with Arthur at… But… there are two trees? Since when?"

In the few flashes of lightning, he can make out Lovino's dark brown hair, wet and dripping rainwater from the tips. His green eyes flash with each word, his entire face narrowed into an angry snarl. The second man, this "Feliciano", is a bit shorter, his hair is lighter in color, more of an auburn color. His eyes are a golden hazel brown, and they seem to wince harder and harder with each harsh word spat from Lovino's mouth.

"Lovi, please calm dow-"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Mi dispiace! But please Lovino, yelling isn't going to solve anything! There's nothing we can do anymore! And besides, we both knew what you were getting into in taking over from grandpa Rome," he says this last part quietly. "I agreed because I have faith that you won't let anything happen to your family, fratello. I believe in your ability to protect us, even if you don't right now." The younger man offers a small smile, and as another flash of lightning lights up the sky, Alfred can plainly see the despair on Lovino's face. "It'll be alright, Lovino." Looking at his brother, Lovino lowers his head.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you, Feli. Grazie." Feliciano smiles and holds out his arms. Blushing, Lovino turns away.

"Come on! You need a hug!"

"Hugs don't solve anything!" But he does it anyway, and as Alfred watches the two brothers, he realizes why Feliciano insisted. Lovino is shivering. Trembling, really. Like his legs are ready to give out on him. And when he hugs his brother, the emotions overwhelm the elder brother, and he starts to quietly sob into his brother's shoulder. Feliciano opens his eyes, a pained expression on his face and looks up at the tree they're in front of.

"He was such a good man… Why did they kill him...?"

Hearing the younger Italian's words, Alfred blanches. Slowly, he turns to look at the tree.

As the night lights up yet again, he starts to shake.

Nailed to the tree is a man, his short formerly black hair frames his once-handsome face. The tree's large branches prevent the body from getting wet, so the blood has long-since dried. The man's hair is dyed a dark rusty red, blood streaks running down his cheeks, mixing with deep tear tracks. His nose is smashed onto one side of his face, completely crushed, the mucus mixing with blood spattered onto the left side of his face. The once-white shirt and black slacks are torn and muddy, ripped in places that reveal deep pus-filled gashes and bruises as black as the night sky. His hands and feet both have large metal spokes driven through them and into the ancient oak tree, dark mahogany tracks running down the tree to the base, dying the green grass a disgusting red. Blood stains die his lips a flaky brown, and his skin is so pale and white, translucent even, as if all the blood has left his body. The front of his shirt is completely torn off, revealing words carved into his chest: YOU'RE NEXT. Who those words are directed to, Alfred doesn't know. If he was thinking rationally, he might have noticed the half-revealed crest branded onto the man's right side. But Alfred isn't thinking rationally. In fact, he can barely think at all. Turning away, he clenches his eyes to try to forget the image, but all he can see is the man's black eyes staring sightlessly into night, a look of fear frozen onto his face.

It's too much, and when he opens his eyes again, he bolts, throwing open the bathroom door, rushing to the toilet and vomiting the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. The brown-and-green substance reminds him of the pus and dried blood, and he finds himself heaving again. He doesn't know how long this continues, but when he feels a hand on his back, his eyes focus and he realizes he's heaving up a clearish-white liquid now. Glancing around, he finally realizes he's awake and back in his dorm.

"Alfred! Hey!" Antonio's voice sounds loud and deafening. Alfred's ears won't stop ringing and as much as he tries he can't get the image of the corpse out of his head. Trying to speak, his voice simply comes out as a whimper. Turning slightly, looking at Antonio, he watches as his friend's face quickly turns to one of dismay.

…

Antonio had had a harder time falling asleep than normal that night. Alfred had been pestering him again about last Saturday night. Why Lovino was really there. he had stuck to his original story, but he didn't like lying to Alfred. It wasn't like him, but he didn't want to scare Alfred off. The American would be good for Arthur, and as much as Antonio disliked the Brit, he didn't bear any ill will towards him, at least, not nearly as much as Lovino and the others. He liked having people be happy, and if Alfred made Arthur happy, who was he to get in their way? So he fell asleep telling himself that.

His sleep had been dreamless. Just a simple blackness, not quite comforting but not frightening either. He was content with that, remembering when it had been far worse for the first few weeks after the incident. So when he was jolted awake by Alfred, he was a bit annoyed.

He had sat up yawning, as the bathroom door flew open, the American disappearing inside. Not a moment later, he heard retching sounds.

"So he got wasted last night…?" He muttered sleepily. "Why didn't he invite me to go drinking too? Oh well." Rolling over, he hugged his pillow, ready to fall back asleep. But when the retching didn't stop after a few minutes, he started to get worried. Finally he got up, trudging into the bathroom. "Hey, Al, you alr-"

He broke off as he saw what was happening. Alfred had stopped throwing up food a long time ago, and was now heaving clear mucus and stomach acid into the toilet bowl. The blonde was unnaturally pale and drenched in sweat, and he seemed to not be noticing what was happening. The vomit didn't look like it was from alcohol, which could only mean that he was either sick, or… Antonio didn't want to think what the second option was. Running to his friend, he grabbed his shoulders.

"Alfred! Hey! Dude, are you alright?!" The man's shoulders stopped shaking, and he let out a small whimpering noise. He finally turned to look at Antonio and the Spaniard couldn't help but look surprised before his face morphed into a grimace.

Alfred's skin was cool and clammy to the touch, a few shades too white. His normally bright blue eyes look washed-out, a dull grayish color. Dark circles ran under his eyelids, a sign of sleep deprivation. His lips were cracked from throwing up so much and his breath was heavy and deep. But what was most surprising was his expression. Alfred looked so scared and hurt. More than he ever had been before. The boy who was always so confident and collected, so loud, who attracted people everywhere he went, who exuded such a proud aura, looked weak. It was not a look that suited him, and it hurt Antonio to see him like this.

"Al…" He whispered. Kneeling down, he looks Alfred in the eyes, something his mom used to do when he had nightmares. "What happened?" Staring at him, Alfred's mouth moved but no sound came out. Instead, more vomit bubbled up, and he had to turn back to the toilet. "Alfred! Alfred stop! You're going to hurt yourself!" He grabbed his friend and shook him as hard as he can. Maybe not the best idea, but Alfred didn't seem like himself. Finally, he managed to drag him away from the toilet. Of course with Alfred's freakish strength it wasn't easy, and he leaned against the bathroom wall, panting for breath. Alfred sits on the tile floor, staring at it, hair blocking his face.

"Tony…" His voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, and when he finally looks up, tears are trickling down his sallow cheeks. As Antonio quickly sits down next to him, he speaks again. "Why…" Hanging his head, Antonio realizes he's not going to be able to say anything else, not now at least. He scoots closer, putting his arm around Alfred and pulling him into a hug. He wouldn't normally do this, but it's pretty obvious that the American is extremely shaken by… something. Antonio pretty much ruled out sickness after seeing his face.

…

After muttering that last word, Alfred quietly starts to sob. So many questions go with that why. Why did that man die? Why would someone want him dead? Why were the two Italian brothers there? Why was _he_ seeing this? Why _him_? And Alfred couldn't answer any of them. And it frustrated him. It frustrated him to the point of tears. His angry sobs were quieted as Antonio pulled him into a hug, and instead of shoving him away, he welcomed it.

_That's right, Mattie would do this when I had a nightmare. My parents didn't know how to deal with it, but Mattie always did. _So he welcomed the familiarity of the warmth. It was okay if he showed weakness every once in a while, right? After all, he was only human, right? It's okay… right?

…

It had taken Antonio a long time to get Alfred to calm down. And when he finally relaxed, the boy immediately passed out, the combination of the trauma and vomiting so much had finally taken their toll.

"God, Al, lay off the hamburgers!" He had complained as he carried him back to his bed. Putting him under the covers, Antonio had looked at the clock and groaned. "Craaaaap, it's already 6 AM? Damn you Alfred. Making me miss my last 2 hours of precious sleep." Turning on the water, he took a long hot shower, and after eating breakfast, he had awoken Alfred.

"Al, wake up! Alfred! American! Fatso!" That last one did the trick and Alfred sat up, clearly annoyed.

"I'm not fat!" They had both winced at the gravelly voice he used.

"You sound like shit. Must've ripped up your throat, puking like that."

"God, don't remind me."

"Anyway, I'm heading to class."

"What?! It's already that late?! Give me a minute, I gotta get dressed-"

"Oh no you're not! You're going back to bed!"

"But-"

"No 'buts'! You puked your guts up just a couple hours ago, you're going back to bed! I'll tell all your professors, bring your homework back, take an extra set of notes for you and get other people in your classes too as well. Which classes do you have today?"

"Um, astronomy with you, calculus AB and world literature. Kiku is in my world lit class, and Toris is in my calc class."

"Right! I'll explain the situation to them then. You rest here. I'll come back during lunch break, just... Just stay here, Al. No. Wandering. Around. Or all my efforts to get you a sick day will go to waste."

"Yeah, yeah." Smiling, Antonio tosses him something, a warm water bottle. "What's this?" Alfred asks, screwing the top off and sniffing it. A sweet citrus aroma wafts from the warm light brown liquid.

"It's what my mother would make me when I had a sore throat. Homemade lemon tea with honey and a little bit of ginger."

"Ginger? Won't that be spicy?"

"Have you ever cooked before, Al? You know like nothing. It's not as spicy once cooked, and I didn't use a lot, obviously, plus it's mixed in, so you'll hardly taste it. It's an old Spanish remedy my abuela taught me. Try it." Alfred looks at him, then back at the tea, clearly skeptical. Moving it to his lips, he looks back at his friend, who gives an encouraging nod. Sipping it, he's surprised to find that it's actually quite tasty.

"This is good!" The sweetness of the honey is perfectly balanced with the acidity of the lemon and the heat of the ginger. It's a tasty, warm drink, and almost immediately, his throat feels better. "My throat doesn't hurt as much!"

"That was the idea. The extra is in the fridge, so microwave it when you run out. Also, gargle some warm salt water every 3 hours. Your throat should be better by tomorrow."

"You know a lot about this kinda stuff, don't you?"

"When I was a boy, we had a very large family, so we couldn't always afford medical treatment. My mother and abuela taught me a lot of this stuff, since I was the oldest. I gotta go, okay? I'll see you during lunch." He waves, turning to the door. Stepping through, he hears Alfred call him. "Yeah?" He asks, turning around.

"Thanks." Antonio smiles.

"Of course, amigo."

…

Alfred could not remember a day where he was more bored. He had read all the comic books he brought with him, finished his tea, and since it was daytime, nothing good was on the small TV they shared. He was too afraid to go back to sleep though. He didn't want to see something like that again. He was presently watching a daytime soap opera marathon, the Heart of Glory, when Antonio came back.

"Dude, finally!" Alfred called into the room, as he heard the door open. "What'd you bring me?"

"Soup." He replied, walking into the shared bedroom. "Chicken soup."

"Aw what? I want a hamburger!"

"Do you not remember puking up your guts?"

"That's no excuse." Alfred grumbles, pouting.

"It's a great excuse! Now do you want it or should I pour it out?"

"I never said I wouldn't eat it! Gimme!"

"What's the word?"

"Yo quiero comida por favor. Happy?"

"You even used my language. I'm touched. Here." Handing him the bowl and a spoon, he plops down on his own bed. "So what's on?"

"Glory finally got together with William, but that's a problem because apparently Eric isn't dead, and Susan isn't Susan, she's actually Chloe. Chloe killed Susan months ago because she was jealous that Adam loved her, but now Adam loves Glory, so Glory has 3 men chasing after her, and of course Chloe doesn't like that, so now she has to deal with Chloe's wrath, not to mention her already-difficult job of killing werewolves. By the way, Eric is secretly a werewolf, thanks to Billy, but Glory already killed Billy, so Adam has to get revenge on Billy's maker, but that was Susan and he was conflicted cuz he loved her, but now she's dead anyway, so he doesn't know what to do."

Nodding, Antonio replies "No idea what any of that means, but sounds interesting."

"It's terrible."

"Should I change the channel?"

"No!"

"Wow. Guess soaps really are addicting."

"Damn straight."

The two eat in silence, watching Glory stab werewolves and Chloe bounce her boobs around and Eric, William and Adam fight for Glory's affection. Finally, Antonio says what's been bothering him the whole day.

"You know you can't go on your date tonight."

"Huh?" That gets Alfred's attention.

"You were really sick last night, Al. You threw up so much you passed out. I don't know what you were dreaming about-" As Alfred pales, he quickly continues. "-And you don't have to tell me, but you need to know how worried I was. I even considered calling an ambulance. You looked awful. You need to rest today, not make things worse. Can't you call Arthur and reschedule?"

"No! I don't have his phone number! I need to go! I've been looking forward to it all week!"

"Alfred, no!"

"You don't understand, Tony! I have to see him! I want to see him! I want to talk to him, about the book he lent me, about his home in Britain, about his brothers, about everything! I want to-"

"No means no! Enough, Alfred!" Antonio almost never raises his voice, so this gets Alfred's attention. "You're not going, and that's final!" After seeing the look of dismay on Alfred's face, his own softens. "Look, just see him tomorrow when you're feeling better, alright? Now I need to go back to class. You stay here. Tell me if Chloe finally manages to kill Glory, okay?"

"...okay." Wincing at the sadness in his friend's voice, Antonio does his best to shrug it off and leaves the room.

…

_Vamos España! Churros y tomates España! _Alfred groaned at the sound of his phone. At some point he must've fallen asleep, and the end credits of the final episode the Heart of Glory were rolling down the TV screen. The windows were darkened, and the only lights in the room were his phone, the electric clock and the television. As he flipped his phone open, he glanced at the clock. 8:23 PM.

"What is it, Tony?"

"Lo ciento! I completely forgot about my date with Lovi after school today! I'm not going to be back until late!"

"How can you forget something like that?"

"I had other things on my mind! Anyway, I'll be back later, okay? I can make you dinner then."

"Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your date, since I can't have mine…"

"I will! See you later!"

"Uh-huh."

…

"Why'd you have to call that jerk ass?"

"Well he is my roommate. And he was really… sick last night." Antonio decided it was probably better to not tell anyone the real reason. "It's polite manners."

"You're too nice, bastardo."

"You're not nice enough, Lovi. Al is a good person."

"Whatever. Can we go to that movie now?"

"Actually…"

"Dio, what now?!"

"You'll see!"

Antonio took Lovino's hand and led him down the brightly lit streets. During nighttime, the streets really did become alive. Last minute sales were being bargained in the markets, couples strolled under the vintage lights, restaurants filled up with patrons, spouses bought gifts for their partners, old friends met up to chat. Although it was night, the town held a friendlier air than during the day. So it was no surprise to see the two men walking down the street. What was a bit shocking was that they turned down a darkened alley and stopped in front of a side door of a bookstore. A very familiar bookstore…

"Oh no! You must be shitting me right now!"

"Oh come on, they were supposed to have a date tonight! It's only fair for me to go tell him. You know Arthur, he's probably practically despondent right now."

"No way am I going in!"

"Then wait for me out here. By yourself. In the dark." Lovino glanced around the empty alleyway before shivering.

"Fine! You stupid bastard!"

"I still can't believe a mafia boss is afraid of the dark!" Antonio laughed as he opened the door and walked down the lobby, stopping in front of another door. He rang the doorbell. A minute later, the door opened to reveal a bleary-eyed Brit.

"Who is- eh?" He breaks off as his eyes focus in the darkness. "Antonio? _Lovino?_ Is that you two? What are you doing here?" His voice quickly changes from surprise to defensive.

"Don't be a dick, we're here as a fucking favor!" Antonio smacks the back of Lovino's head as he says this.

"Lovi! Language! Sorry, Arthur, but seriously, relax, mi amigo! I just came to tell you why Al didn't come!" Arthur's eyes narrow and he looks away, a pained expression on his face.

"You didn't have to come all this way. Why would he actually show up anyway? I-it's not like I was looking forward to it or anything."

"You're sicken-" Antonio slaps his hand over Lovino's mouth before he finishes talking.

"Aw, don't be like that, Arthur. On the contrary, I was the one who forced him to not go."

"Huh? Why?"

"Last night he was really sick, he literally almost threw up his guts. And then he passed out. So I told him he had to stay home and rest."

"Eh?! Is he alright?!"

"He is now, I think. He wanted to see you really badly, y'know. I had to yell at him to get him to stay."

"Wow, you yelled at someone? I'm proud of you, bastard."

"Uh, thanks Lovi." Suddenly Arthur spoke up.

"Did he really want to… to see me? You're not just saying that?" Antonio smiles.

"Nope! He really wanted to. Sadly, I was supposed to make dinner for him but didn't get a chance to since I'm out with Lovi. Al's back at our dorm right now and I accidentally grabbed his set of keys as well as mine," He says, grinning as he pulled out Arthur's hand and placed the key ring in it. "Why don't you go return those to him?" Arthur looked down at the keys and then back at Antonio. His expression has morphed and now he looks more like an excited puppy.

"Can I really?" Antonio stifles a laugh at Arthur's earnestness before responding.

"Sí. Have a nice night with him!"

"Th-thank you. I really appreciate it." Arthur shuts the door and they can hear him rushing up the stairs.

"What's the asshole doing now?"

"Most likely getting ready. This is sort of a date after all."

"You're really too nice to him, y'know."

"I know. But he deserves to be happy too."

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry! This took so long for me to update! I apologize! My computer crashed 4 days ago and I lost all my progress on this chapter! Although I must say it actually worked better, since this story turned out completely different. The first one was their regular planned date, but I like this version better. I hope you guys liked it!**

**Okay, so the corpse was Bulgaria. Kudos to you if you got that. He was Lovino's second-in-command who was going to retire soon. That's all I'm saying. You'll have to wait to find out who killed him. Don't worry, it'll all come together eventually.**

**A wild Feliciano appeared! He used 'Hug'! It's super effective!**

**So much angsty-angst in this chapter… Sorry if it was depressing… But Alfie is okay! And don't you guys love my ringtone for Antonio? :D Believe it or not, I've used that plant excuse to skip school and it worked… hooray for personal experience! Also, those sore throat remedies Antonio uses actually do work! Who says fanfiction can't be educational?**

**Aw, Tony, you're so sweet, even to Arthur when you hate him! And Arthur's tsundereness is so fun to write! XD It's really too cute!**

**So that was Chapter 6! I hope you all enjoyed it! I'm sorry the update took a long time! To my two friends who read this and always email me feedback, thanks so much! You two really should make accounts! I hope everyone liked it! Please continue to read and review if you can! Constructive criticism is welcomed!**

**Reviews are love :) & love is happiness :D**


	7. Author Note

**Hello guys! First let me start off by saying this is not a chapter. I'm sorry.**

**For the past week I've been on vacation and I don't get back until the 18th, 2 days before school starts up again for me. I feel really bad for not updating, but we're taking a road trip through Europe so I have like no wifi ever to work on my fanfic. It took me over an hour to find a signal to post this. I'll try to update as soon as I can, but I decided I should explain myself.**

**Please be patient with me everyone! I'll be back soon!**


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